"Nothing Gold Can Stay"

    Recently, a friend and I were working on a story together. I noticed that chapter 9 was titled "Nothing Gold can Stay". Puzzled, I read through the chapter, trying to find where she might have gotten that from (If you're like me, you always try to give chapters a title that reflects something in it). However, I couldn't find anything pertaining to gold or the banning of it, so I asked my friend about it.

As it turns out, "Nothing Gold Can Stay" is a poem by Robert Frost (you know, the guy who wrote "The Road Not Taken". You know how it goes. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood..."). I had read some of his works before, but never this one. 

  

As you can see, this poem has quite the melancholy air about it. Bereaving what can be considered to be the short lifespan of the color of gold in nature, it ultimately reflects on how often purity is tainted when it is only hours old. 

It's a beautiful poem, really. Or maybe it's just me... idk i kinda like things that are sad but also comforting. Even though this poem comes across as a lament, it just gives me a hopeful feeling--there will always be next spring. :)

Have you read any beautiful poems lately? Who is your favorite author? Have you ever heard of this poem before and are thinking, "lacy, for crying out loud get with the times. this is SO 1923"? xD 

It's Time for some Truth, Ladies and Gentlemen.

Alright my readers.
Time for some Truth.

It's summer, and summer is a time to do lots of fun things. Like going to the pool. Who doesn't like going to the pool? It's a great way to cool off.

It's also a dangerous place.

And I'm not talking about potential drowning.

I'm talking about bikinis.

Ok, hear me out. If you've never read the book Dressing with Dignity by Colleen Hammond, please do so as soon as possible. Ms. Hammond makes many great points in her book, and gives a lot of fashion history as well. But when reading this book, the thing that horrified me the most was this next snippet from the book.

"Advertising agencies quickly prepared marketing research to find out the reaction of men to a woman wearing pants. Do you know what they found? Using newly developed technology, they tracked the path that a man's eyes take when looking at a woman in pants. They found that when a man looked at a woman in pants from the back, he looked directly at her bottom. When he looked at a woman wearing pants from the front, advertisers foind that his eyes dropped directly to a woman's most private and intimate area. Not her face! Not her chest!"**

And if you think that a man's reaction to girls in pants is bad--and believe me, it is--imagine how a man reacts to see a woman wearing a bikini--which is wearing almost nothing!!! Their brains go HAYWIRE!! This isn't just boys being stupid. IT'S PSYCOLOGY, PEOPLE. Men's minds are programmed to seek out beauty in women. But it is all too easy for that desire for what is true, good, and beautiful to be perverted. 

And it doesn't help that a lot of women are "dressing dirty". 

Some may not do it intentionally! Some may not know any better! But just because they might not know better doesn't mean that this is a great temptation to sin for men and boys.

Truth hurts, people. Continue reading:

"[...] Advertisers know that the same holds true when a man views a woman wearing slacks or a skirt with slits. Men's eyes will follow the lines right up her legs and finish the picture in their imagination. Women's eyes may do the same thing, but since women don't have the same type of temptations, their imaginations don't complete the picture in the same way as men's do.

[...] Think about it! Even prostitutes in the 1950's and 1960's did not wear the skimpy, suggestive clothing that many women and young girls are now wearing to the shopping malls during warm weather."

Do you feel like you're going to throw up?

You should.

This is a dangerous world for our brothers, fathers, cousins, and friends. 

Some people will come back at truth like this with the age-old argument "if he's thinking stupid things about me it's his problem! I can dress how I want! etc., etc." 

Ohhhhhhh, honey. It is TOTALLY your problem.

True, men should guard their eyes and hearts against temptation, but it is so hard for them. Think about the last time someone jumped out at you and scared you. You had no idea they were there, did you? You didn't know they were going to scare you--did you? Just the same, it is all too easy for men and boys to get caught off guard with temptations. 

And think: not all men want to guard their hearts and keep themselves pure. Some take pleasure in looking at women--why do you think porn is so common and successful? It's dangerous! You don't want to be a walking temptation for perverts to gawk at and fantasize about! 

Some people do dress for attention. And that's sad. I weep for the streetwalkers. They do not know their real value. We were made for so much more than this. We're better than this. God has made each and every one of us with such care and attention. How it must sadden his Heart to see his daughters and sons misusing and flaunting their bodies which He made in His image! 

If you want to dress for attention, though... honestly? Why dress the same as everyone else when you could dress modestly? That's not something you see every day. Modesty gets attention. And it gets attention because it's rare (sadly). 

So the way you dress does affect men. Please, PLEASE do not undervalue yourself. Don't flaunt your body at the swimming pool. Don't show yourself in public. Appreciate and embrace your God-given beauty. Beauty is hidden, not flaunted. Where do you find diamonds? Deep, deep in the earth. Where do you find pearls? At the bottom of the ocean, nestled in a strong shell. Take a lesson from the jewels. Respect yourself. Because if you don't, no one will.

God didn't die for the diamonds and pearls. He died for you. And if He values you that much, you should value yourself too. 

Dressing with Dignity on Amazon

The Eagle of the Ninth

Howdy howdy, Elflings!

So today I wanted to tell you about a super awesome book that you have to read or else. which I read recently. Well, I listened to it on Audible.

'TIS CALLED.

*drumrooooooollllllllllllll*

The Eagle of the Ninth!!

*ba dum tshhhhhhhhh*
*polite applause*

SO for all of you who may have never heard of this book (as I certainly hadn't before a couple of weeks ago), it is a novel written by Rosemary Sutcliff, and set in ancient Roman Britain.

*inhale*

OHMIGOSH I LOVE THIS BOOK TO BITS AND PIECES
IT WAS SO AWESOME
NONE OF THE CHARACTERS DIED. THAT MADE ME SO HAPPY
THE PLOT WAS AMAZING
THE SUSPENSE WAS SO REAL
MARCUS AND ESCA ARE SO. DARN. COOL.
ESCA IS AMAZING I LOVE HIM
UNCLE AQUILA IS LIKE. THE EPITOME OF COOL RELATIVES. IMHO.
ASFJASLKFJSALKFJASDKLFJS
ROMANS AND EAGLES AND BRITONS OH MY!!!

*inhale*
GO READ THIS BOOK IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY. GAH. HARMFGLFMFMEFM

I believe this book was turned into a movie. I haven't seen it, and I can't give you any info on that. BUT. The BOOK. GAH.  I CAN"T EVEN.


I feel like this picture describes my feeling about this book (and a lot of other books and movies, for that matter):

ESCAAAAAAAAAA

*cough* Anyway. If someone has seen the movie let me know how it is. 

My favorite quotes from The Eagle of the Ninth:

“Better to be a laughing-stock than lose the fort for fear of being one.” 

“And what will they do to you when you have told them this story?' 
Esca said very simply, 'They will kill me.' 
'I am sorry, but I do not think much of that plan.' Marcus said.”


“But these things that Rome had to give, are they not good things?” Marcus demanded. “Justice, and order, and good roads; worth having, surely?” 
“These be all good things,” Esca agreed. “But the price is too high.” 
“The price? Freedom?” 
“Yes—and other things than freedom.” 
“What other things? Tell me, Esca; I want to know. I want to understand.” 
Esca thought for a while, staring straight before him. “Look at the pattern embossed here on your dagger-sheath,” he said at last. “See, here is a tight curve, and here is another facing the other way to balance it, and here between them is a little round stiff flower; and then it is all repeated here, and here, and here again. It is beautiful, yes, but to me it is as meaningless as an unlit lamp.” 
Marcus nodded as the other glanced up at him. “Go on.” 
Esca took up the shield which had been laid aside at Cottia’s coming. “Look now at this shield-boss. See the bulging curves that flow from each other as water flows from water and wind from wind, as the stars turn in the heaven and blown sand drifts into dunes. These are the curves of life; and the man who traced them had in him knowledge of things that your people have lost the key to—if they ever had it.” He looked up at Marcus again very earnestly. “You cannot expect the man who made this shield to live easily under the rule of the man who worked the sheath of this dagger.” 
“The sheath was made by a British craftsman,” Marcus said stubbornly. “I bought it at Anderida when I first landed.” 
“By a British craftsman, yes, making a Roman pattern. One who had lived so long under the wings of Rome—he and his fathers before him—that he had forgotten the ways and the spirit of his own people.” He laid the shield down again. “You are the builders of coursed stone walls, the makers of straight roads and ordered justice and disciplined troops. We know that, we know it all too well. We know that your justice is more sure than ours, and when we rise against you, we see our hosts break against the discipline of your troops, as the sea breaks against a rock. And we do not understand, because all these things are of the ordered pattern, and only the free curves of the shield-boss are real to us. We do not understand. And when the time comes that we begin to understand your world, too often we lose the understanding of our own.” 
For a while they were silent, watching Cub at his beetle-hunting. Then Marcus said, “When I came out from home, a year and a half ago, it all seemed so simple.” His gaze dropped again to the buckler on the bench beside him, seeing the strange, swelling curves of the boss with new eyes. Esca had chosen his symbol well, he thought: between the formal pattern on his dagger-sheath and the formless yet potent beauty of the shield-boss lay all the distance that could lie between two worlds. And yet between individual people, people like Esca, and Marcus, and Cottia, the distance narrowed so that you could reach across it, one to another, so that it ceased to matter.” 

“And it came to Marcus suddenly that slaves very seldom whistled. They might sing, if they felt like it or if the rhythm helped their work, but whistling was in some way different; it took a free man to make the sort of noise Esca was making.”

^^ That one made me so happy, given the context. Thank you, Goodreads, for letting me steal borrow some quotes even though I don't have a Goodreads account. :D

What did you think of this post? Do you want to see more of my Booky reviews? (lol)

OH OH OH. Almost forgot.

I PROMISE that that Tolkien post will make its appearance SoOnEr Or LaTeR. it SHALL. I am DETERMINED IT SHALL. 

OH and one more fangirl post because there's no denying reality. :D

YAAAAAAAS

TALK TO ME PEEPS

An Idea with a Capital I ;)

Hi Elflings! It's me again, the unfaithful poster here on the Life Of An Elf :D sowwy...

ANYWAY I had an Idea and I was wondering what you peeps would think of it!

So I have started writing a series of short stories called Tales From Mirkwood (#cheesy), the main character of which is an Elf named Eriathwen, WHICH IS ACTUAL ELVISH FOR MY REAL NAME. YIPE.

..and my point was: I'm wondering if you readers would like for me to post them on here! I already have one story written, and I started the second one this morning. I can't wait to see what you think!

Tell me your thoughts! And if you would like to add a prompt for a Mirkwood Tale in your comment, feel free! I would love to hear your ideas! (plus I need prompts xD)

Five Poems You Need to Read (and should memorize!)

Hey Elflings!
I was reading some poems a few days back, and I wanted to share some of them with you.

(Note: These are in no particular "order-of-preference" whatsoever.)

Number One:

Preparedness
Edwin Markham

For all your days prepare,
And meet them all alike:
When you are the anvil, bear--
When you are the hammer, strike.
        

This is a short yet powerful poem. Be ready. You never know what's coming. Don't be caught off guard.

Number Two:

The Fool's Prayer
Edward Rowland Sill

The royal feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: "Sir Fool, 
Kneel now and make for us a prayer!"

The jester doffed his cap and bells,
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile 
Behind the painted grin he wore.

He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the monarch's silken stool;
His pleading voice arose: "Oh Lord, 
Be merciful to me, a fool!

"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but, Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!

" 'T is not by guilt the onward sweep 
Of truth and right, oh Lord, we stay;
'T is by our follies that so long 
We hold the Earth from Heaven away.

"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.

"The ill-timed truth we might have kept--
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung!
The word we had not sense to say--
Who knows how grandly it had rung!

"Our faults no tenderness should ask,
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;
But for our blunders--oh, in shame
Before the eyes of Heaven we fall.

"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave and scourge the tool
That did his will; but thou, oh Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!"

The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low:
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"

Wow, right? This one makes me think of the Bible verse from Psalms that says, "Though your servant is careful of them [God's laws], very diligent in keeping them, yet who can detect failings? Cleanse me from my unknown faults!" Beautiful! I myself am working on memorizing this poem.


Number Three:

A Friend's Greeting
Edgar A. Guest

I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me;
I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day
As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way.

I'd like to do the big things and the splendid things for you,
To brush the gray from out your skies and leave them only blue;
I'd like to say the kindly things that I so oft have heard,
And feel that I could rouse your soul the way that mine you've stirred.

I'd like to give you back the joy that you have given me, 
Yet that were wishing you a need I hope, will never be;
I'd like to make you feel as rich as I, who travel on
Undaunted in the darkest hours with you to lean upon.

I'm wishing at this Christmas time that I could but repay
A portion of the gladness that you've strewn along my way;
And could I have one wish this year, this only would it be:
I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me.

This is my heartfelt wish! Don't you just read this and respond from the depths of your soul, "Yes! Yes, this is how I feel too"? And sure, it says "Christmas" (and we're not there yet), but it goes year round, in my opinion!

Number Four:

I Shall Not Pass This Way Again
Author Unknown

Through this toilsome world, alas!
Once and only once I pass;
If a kindness I may show,
If a good deed I may do,
To a suffering fellow man,
Let me do it while I can.
No delay, for it is plain,
I shall not pass this way again.

MAKE THE MOST OF THE TIME YOU HAVE! At any time, you could die, and what would they remember you by? Make your life count!

Number Five:

Prayer of a Soldier in France
Joyce Kilmer

My shoulders ache beneath my pack
(Lie easier, Cross, upon His back).

I march with feet that burn and smart
(Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart).

Men shout at me who may not speak
(They scourged Thy back and smote Thy cheek).

I may not lift a hand to clear 
My eyes of salty drops that sear.

(Then shall my fickle soul forget 
Thy Agony of Bloody Sweat?)

My rifle hand is stiff and numb
(From The pierced palm red rivers come).

Lord, thou didst suffer more for me
Than all the hosts of land and sea.

So let me render back again
This millionth of The gift. Amen.


What a beautiful poem! God has done the unthinkable for us... should we not do all we can for Him?



I hope you enjoyed this selection of poems, my Elflings! Read them, memorize them, share them! They come in handy for all situations. If you need something to put on a Christmas card, use A Friend's Greeting by Edgar A. Guest. If you need some motivation, recite Preparedness by Edwin Markham! Poems are super useful, and inspirational!

Have you ever read any of these poems before? Do you plan on memorizing any of them? Which one was your favorite?