W. Gurney (William Gurney) Benham.

Cassell's book of quotations, proverbs and household words .. online

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armed, for though I be skilful I may be
oppressed with multitudes. Act 4j 7,

This will I venture upon my poor
gentleman-like carcass to perform. lb.

Civilly by the sword. lb.

Anger costs a man nothing. Act 4t ^•

Plagued with an itching leprosy of wit.

. Every Man oot of his Hnmonr.
AntC'Froto^w, {Second Sounding),

Sit melancholy, and pick your teeth when

you cannot


Act i, t.

"Lei them be good that love me, though but
few. Cynthia's Rsvels. Act S, 4,

True happiness
Consists not in the multitude of friends,
But in the worth and choice. Ih,

Ambition dares not stoop. Act 4, ^»

Of all wfld beasts pres erve me from a

And of all tame, a flatterer.

FaUofS^anns. Act 1.

Contempt of fame begets contempt of
virtue. lb.

He threatens many that hath injured one.

'Twas only fear first in the world made
gods. lb.

Who nourisheth a lion must obey him.

Posterity pays every man his honour. lb.

What excellent fools
Religion makes of men ! Act S,

1 do love
To note and to observe. Tolpent. Attt^l^


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CBlmniiiee are answered best with silence.
VolpoDs. Act f , f .

I am juyw past the craggy paths of study,
and oome to the flowery plains of honour
and reputation. Jb,

All the wise world is little else, in nature
But parasites, or sub-parasites. Act S, 1,

Somewhat costiTe of belief.

The Alchamlst. Aett,f.

I win eat exceedingly, and prophesy.

Bartholomew Fair. Act i, 6,

Neither do thou lust after that tawney
weed tobacca Act f , o.

She is my own lawfully begotten wife,

In wedlock. The Mew Inn. Act 4t ^*

O, for an engine to keep back all clocks.

Act 14.
One woman reads another^s character
Without the tedious trouble of deciphering.

Care that is entered once into the breast.
Will haye the whole possession, ere it rest.
Tale of a Tub. Act 1,7,

Indeed there is a woundy luck in names, Sir,
And a main mystery, an'' a man knew where
To vind it. Act ^, 1,

The fiend hath much to do, that keeps a

Or is the father of a family ;
Or gorems but a country academy.
TlM Sad Bhephsrd. (A fragment.) Act S, 1,

His hearers could not cough or look aside
from him without loss. . . The fear of
errery man that heard him was lest he should
make an end,

Ob the Lord St. Albans. {Bacon,)

In his adrersity I ever prayed that God
wonld ghre him strength; for greatness he
ooold not want. lb,

*' JUNIUS" (Letters poblishea 1768-

One pireeedent creates another. They
wxm accumulate and become law.


This is not the cause of faction, or of
party, or of any indiridual, but the conmion
interest of erery man in Britain. lb.

The liberty of the press is the jMlladium
of an the dm, political, and religious rights

of an Bngli^liprM*" ^b,

D«atb-bed ivpentance seldom reaches to

/QititutiosL ■*^*

To be acquainted with the merit of a

mmistrr, we need only observe the condition

c/thepeopla. Metier 1. Jan, tl, 1769,

There is no extremity of distress, which,
of itself, ought to reduce a great nation to
despair. lb.

In all the mazes of metaphorical confusion.
Letter 7, Mareh S, 1769.

The ri^ht of election la the yery essence of
the constitution, letter 11, April i4i ^^'

Is this the wisdom of a great minister ; or
is it the ominous vibration of a pendulxmi ?
Letter It, May 90, 1769.

I do not ffive you to posterity as a pattern
to imitate, but as an example to deter. lb.

There is a holy, mistaken zeal in politics,
as well as religion. By persuading others
we convince oiuselves.

Letter 56, Dee, 19, 17619,

The fortune which made you a king, for-
bade you to have a friend. It is a hiw of
nature^ which cannot be violated with
impumty. lb.

Whether it be the heart to conceive, the
understanding to direct, or the hand to
execute. Letter 57. March 19, 1770.

The noble spirit of the metropolis is the life-
blood of the state, collected at the heart lb.

The injustice done to an individual is
sometimes of service to the public

Letter 41. Nov,U,mO,

Private credit is wealth, public honour is

security. The feather that adorns the royal

bird supports his flight; strip him of his

plumage, and you fix him to the earth.

Utter 43i, Jan. 90, 1771.

The flaming patriot, who so lately scorched
us in the menoian, sinks temperately to the
west, and is hardly felt as he descends.

Letter 64, Aiig, 16, 1771.

JOHN KEATS (1795-1821).

A maker of sweet poets. (The Moon) .

Barly Poems. Ittooda Tiptoe,

Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong.
To G. F. Hathsv.

Much have I travelled in the realms of
On first looking Into Chapman's Homer*

Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
"When a new planet swims into his ken ;

Or like stout Cortez when, with eagle eyes.
He stared at the Pacific— and all his men

Looked at each other with a wild surmise —
Silent, upon a peak in Darien. iJ.

A money-mong'ring pitiable brood.

Addressed to Haydoa.

Hear ye not the hxmi
Of mighty workings ?



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The poetry of earth is never dead.

On the Orasihopper and the Cricket.

They swayed about upon a rocking-horse,
And thought it Pegasus.

Bleep and Poetry.

There is not a fiercer hell than the failure
in a great object. Endymlon. Preface.

The imagination of a boy is healthy, and
the mature imagination of a man is healthy ;
but there is a space of life between, in which
the soul is in a ferment^ the character un-
decided, the way of life uncertain, the
ambition thick-sighted: thence proceeds
mawkishness. Jb,

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever :
Its loveliness increases ; it will never
Pass into nothingneei ; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and healtn, and quiet
br^at^iing. Book 1.

Breathed words
Would all be lost, unheard, and vain as

Against the encased crocodile, or leaps
Of grasshoppers against the sun. lb.

He ne*er is crowned
With immortality who fears to follow
Where airy voices lead. Book f.

*Ti8 the pest
Of love that fairest joys gire most unrest. lb,

Far-sjKJoming ocean. lb.

What is there in thee, Moon ! that thou

should'st move
My heac^ so potently ? lb.

Let me have music dying, and I seek

No more delight. Book 4*

Fair Melodv ! kind Siren ! I've no choice ;

I mtist be thy sad servant evermore ;

I cannot choose but kneel here and adore. lb.

Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is — Love, forgive us ! — cinders, ashes, dust ;
Love in a palace is, perhaps, at last
Moi-e grievous torment than a hermit's fast.
Lamia. Fart 2,^

In pale contented sort of discontent. '^.<f
With reconciling words and courteous mien
Turning into sweet milk the sophist's spleen.

Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy ? lb.

Philosophy will clip an angel's wings. lb.

Music's golden tongue
Flattered to tears this aged man and poor.
Eve of St. Agnei. St, S,

And diamonded with panes of quaint device,
Innumerable of stains and splendid dyes.

As though a rose should shut, and be a bud
again. St. f7.

And lucent syropa, tinct with cinnamon.

He played an ancient ditty, long once mute.

St. S3.
Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they

A paradise for a sect.

Hyperion. {1S20,) EarlUr Version,

That large utterance of the early Gods.

Book /, /. 50,

O aching time I O moments big as years !

As when upon a tranced summer night,
Those green-robed senators of mighty woods,
Tall oaks, branch-charmM by the earnest

Dream, and so dream all night without a

stir. /. 7t,

Too huge for mortal tongue, or pen of scribe.

Now comes the pain of truth, to whom 'tis

O lolly ! for to bear all naked truths.
And to envisage circumstance, all calm.
That is the top of sovereignty.

A solitary sorrow beet befits
Thy lips, and antheming a lonely grief

Book 5, /. 5.

O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple stainM mouth.

Ode to a Hightlngale.

The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other
groan. Jb,

Was it a vision, or a waldng dream ?
Fled is that music : — ^Do I wake or sleep ?

Thou foster-child of silence and slow time
Ode on a Greolan Urn.

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
^ are sweeter. lb.

For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair !

" Beauty is truth, truth beauty,"— that is aU
Te know on earth, and all ye need to know.
^ lb.

On one side is a field of drooping oats,
Through which the poppies show their

scarlet coats.
So pert and useless, that they bring to mind
The scarlet coats that pester humankind.

To my Brother George.

There is a budding morrow in midnight.

Bonnet to Homar.


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Bat, for tine general a^^ard of lore
The UtUe sweet doth kill much bittemeas.
Isabella. St. IS.

Eren bees, the little almsmen of spring-
Enow there is richest juioe in poison-flowen.

Selfishness, IjOve*s cousin. St, 31.

What a fool
An injury may make of a staid man !

Otho the Great. Aet 3, 1,

There are times
When amplest things put on a sombre cast.

What weapons has the lion but himself ?

King Stephen. Scene 3,

[RsT.] JOHN KEBLE (1792.1866).

Next to a soxmd rule of faith, there is
nothing of so much conseqnenoe as a sober
standard of feeling in matters of practical
religion. The Christiao Tear. Freface,

Oh ! timely happ;^, timely wise.

Hearts that witnrisLug mom arise! Morning,

If on onr daily conrse onr mind

Be aet to hallow all we find,

^ew treasures still, of conntless pricei

Ood will provide for sacrifica lb,

We need not bid, for cloistered cell,

Our naghbour and onr work farewell, lb,

The trivial round, the common task.
Would furnish all we ought to ask ;
Boom to deny ourselves ; a road
To bring us aaily nearer God. lb,

And help us this, and every flay,

To live more nearly as we pray. Jb.

Sun of my soul ! thou Saviour dear,

It is not night if tiiou be near. Efening,

Tracmff out wisdom, power, and love,

In earth or sky, in stream or grove. lb

Abide with me from mom till eve,

For without Thee I cannot live :

Abide with me when night is nigh,

For #ithont Thee I dare not die. lb

like in&nt's slumbers, pure and light. lb.

Think not ai rest ; though dreams be sweet,
Start up, and ply your heavenward feet

tnd Sunday in Advent,

riis wandering on enchanted |^und
With ^zzyhrow and totteimg feet.

4th Sunday in Advent.

How happier far than life, the end
Of souls that infant-like beneath their
burden bend. ^^^y Innocentt,

Art thou a child at teax^
Cradled In care and -woe r


Give trae hearts but earth and sk^,
And some flowers to bloom and die!,—
Homely scenes and simple views
Lowly thoughts may best infuse.

1st Sunday after Bpiphemy,

Unseen by all but Heaven,
like diamond blazing in the mine.

Srd Sunday after Epiphemy,

" Only disperse the cloud," they cnr,
'* Aqq if our fate be death, give light, and
let us die." 6th Sunday after Epiphany,

There is a book, who runs may read.

Which heavenly trath imparts.
And all the lore its scholars need,

Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

Thou, who hast ^ven me eyes to see

And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,

And read Thee everywhere. Ih,

*Twas but one little drop of sin
We saw tMs morning enter in,
And lo ! at eventide the world was drowned.

Sweet is the smile of home ; the mutual look
When hearts are of each other sure.

let Sunday in Lent,

There is no light but Thine ; with Thee all
beauty glows. Srd Sunday in Lent,

Or like pale ghosts, that darkling roam.
Hovering around their ancient home.
But find no refuge there.
(Jeunsh race.) 6th Sunday in Lent.

A hopeless faith, a homeless race,
Tet seeking the most holy place,

And owning the true bUss. lb.

Ye, whose hearts are beating high
With the pulse of Poesy.
Heirs of more than royal race,
Framed by heaven*s peculiar srace
God's own work to do on earth !

Falm Sunday,
Sovereign masters of all hearts. lb.

Give us grace to listen well. lb.

As in this bad world below
Noblest things find vilest using. lb,

*' Father to me thou art, and mother dear.
And brother too, kind husband of my
heart"* Monday before Easter.

Be silent, Praise^
Blind guide with siren voice, and blinding all
That hear thy call.

Wednesday be/ore Easter,

Thou art the Sun of other days.
They shine by giving back thy rays.

Easter Day,

• Sm "Iliad," 6, 429.


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The many-twinkling amfle of ocean.

The Ohristlan Tear.
ind Sunday after Trinity,
Ko distance breaks the tie of blood ;

Brothen are brothers evermore ;
Kor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood,
That magic may o*erpower. Ih,

Oh! mieht we all onr lineage prove,

Give and forgive, do good and love. Ih»

Then draw we nearer day by day.

Each to his brethren, all to Goa ;
Let the world take us as she may.

We must not change our roa^ lb.

Men love us, or they need our love.

7th Sunday after Trinity,
The grey-haired saint may fail at last,
The surest guide a wanderer prove ;
Death ovlj binds us fast
To the bnffht shore of love.

8th Sunday after Trinity,
Why should we faint and fear to live alone,*
Smoe all alone, so Heaven has willed, ws
Nor e'en the tenderest heart, and next oul
Knows half the reasons why we smile and
sigh P t4th Sunday after Trinity,

Blest are the pure in heart.
For they shall see our God.t

The lUnJication,
Still to the lowlv soul
He doth himself impart,
And for His cradle and His throne
Chooseth the pure in heart. lb.

Then be ve sure that Love can bless
Even in Uus crowded loneliness.
Where ever-moving myriads seem to say.
Go — thou art naught to us, nor we to thee—
away ! St. Matthew^ s Day,

There are in this loud stunning tide

Of human care and crime.
With whom the melodies abide

Of the everlasting chime ;
Who carrv music in their heart

Through dusky lane and wrangling mart,
Plying their daily task with busier feet,
Because their secret souls a holy strain re

peat. lb.

What sages would have died to learn,
Now taught by cottage dames. Cateehisnu

Tis sweet, as year by year we lose
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse
How grows in Paradise our store.

Burial of the Dead,
We wish him health : he sighs for rest,
And Heaven accepts the prayer.

Restoration Day,

9 "Je moumd seal" (I shall die alone).—

t Bt Matthew, v. 8.


JOHN P. KEMBLE (1767-1828).
When late I attempted your pity to move,
Whv seemed you so deaf to mv prayers ?
Perhaps it was right to dissemble your love.
But — why did you kick me downstairs ?
The P»nel.t (Nov, t8, 178S.) Act i, Se, t

THOMAS KEN, Bishop of Bath and

Wellt (1637-1711).
Each present day thy last esteem.

Homing Hymn.

Let all thy converse be sincere. lb.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below. lb.

Teach me to live that I may dread
The grave as little as my bed.

Evening Hymn.

In durance vile.§

FalstaTs Wedding. Act. 1, Se, i,


There are two literary maladies — writer's
cramp and swelled head. The worst of
writer's cramp is that it is never cured ; the
worst of swelled head is that it never kills.

Lecture. Midland Institute, Birmingham,

Circumstances never made the man do
right who didn't do right in spite of them.
A Book of Strange Slni.

FRANCIS S. KEY (1780-1843).
'Tis the star-spangled banner, O ! long may

it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of

the brave ! The Star- Spangled Banner.

Praise the Power that hath made and pre-
served us a nation,

Then conquer we must, for our cause it is

And this be our motto, "In God is our
trust" lb.

X This is BickeratftfTH comedy, " 'Tis Well 'tis
no Worse." adapted and re-set. The lines appear
as above in The Annual Register, 1768, Appendix,
p. 201. among " Miscellaneous Poems/' and are
headea "An Expostulation "; also in the
"Asylum for Fugitive Pieces/' 1786, voL 1, p. 15.
In both cases tiie lines are published anonv*
nionsly. It is presumed that John Philip Kemble
was the author, but this Is not certain. The lines
were not in BickerstafTs comedy, as prodaced io


§ This phrase may be of previous occuirence,
but has not been traced to any earlier source.


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WILLIAM KINO. LL.D. (1663-1713).
Beaatj from order springs.

Art of Cookery. /. 65.

Cornwall squab-pie, and Devon white-pot

beans and bacon, food of
1. 163.

Crowd not your table : let your number be
Not more man seven, and never less than
three. Lt59.

A pin a day will fetch a groat a year. 405,
Tia by his cleanliness a cook most please.

On adamant oar wrongs we all engrave,
Bat write oar benefits apon the ware.

The JLrt of Love. 971.


There will be no trae freedom without
virtue, no true science without religion, no
true industry without the fear of God and
love to your fellow- citizens^ Workers ol
England, be wise, and then you must be &ee,
for you wiU he Jit to be free.

Placard. I848.
He did not know ttiat a keeper is only a
poacher turned inside out, and a poacher a
keeper tamed outside in.*

The Water Babies. Chap. 1.
The most wonderful and the strongest
things in the worid, yoa know, are just the
things which no one can see. uhap. t.

Possession meaos to sit astride of the world.
Instead of having it astride of you.

BainU' Tragedy. Act i, g,
Tis ve alone
Can join &e patience of the labouring oz
Unto the eagle's foresight. lb.

And being that Mercury is not my planet.

Act i, 3.
The castle-bom brat is a senator bom,
Or a saint if religion's in vogue. Act t, i.

This noble souL
Worth thousand prudish clods of barren

Who mope for heaven because earth's
grapes are sour. Act f , 3.

Oh I that we two were Maying. Act f , 9.
JJie is too short for mean anxieties. lb.
Yet waste men's lives, like the vermiu's,
Fcv a few more brace of game.

The Bad Bqoire.
Worse housed than your hacks and youi
Worse fed than your hogs and your sheen.

* " Besides they (the keepers) sre themselves
so maoy hired poachers."— »««• Dnwaox, " Ds

Telling lies, and scraping siller, heaping
cares on cares. The Oatlav.

Fools! who fancy Christ mistaken ;

Man a tool to buy and sell ;
Earth a failure, Gh>d-f orsakec.

Anteroom of HeU. The World's I^a.

He that will not live by toil
Has no right on English soil !

Uton Locke's Bon^

Three fishers went sailing away to the West,

Away to the West as uie sun went down ;

Each tnought on the woman who loved him

the befft. The Three Fishers.

For men must work, and women must

And there's little to earn, and many to


)ugh the harbour bar be moaning.

For men must work, and women must

weep '

And the sooner it's over, the sooner to
sleep. lb.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who can be
Bo lovely things, not dream them, all
day long ;
And 80 make Life, and Death, and that For
One grand sweet song.f

FareweU. To C. E. O.

Do the work that's nearest, t

Though it's dull at whiles,
Helping, when we meet them.

Lame dogs over stiles. The Invitation.

Yet for old sake's sake she is still, dears.
The prettiest doll in the world.

My Littla DoU. Water BabUs.

Pain is no evil,

Unless it conquer us. flalnt Maura*

The only way to re^erate the world is
to do the duty which hes nearest us, and not
hunt after grand, far-fetched ones for our-
selves.^ Letters and Memories.

t Printed thos in the " Poems " (1889 editionX
In Kingsley's "Life" 0877) edited by his wife,
what appears to be the original version Ib pub-
lished (voL 1, p. 487). The lines are given as
above, except that the third reads :
"And so make Life, Death, and that vast For

Another form of the stanza given In the 1832
edition of the " Poems * is :
'* Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ;
Do not>le things, not dream them all day long ;

And so make lire, death, and that vast for ever
One grand sweet song."

t Sm Carlyle : " Do the duty that lies nearest
thee** (p. 71).


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O ! it's Tommy this, an* Tommy that, an'

** Tommy, go away ; "
But it's ** Thuik you, Mister Atkins," when

the band begins to play.

Barrack Room Ballads. Tommy,

Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an'

'•Tommy, 'ow'*s yer soul?"
But it's ** Thin red line of 'eroes " when the

drum begins to roll. Jb.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, an' we aren't
no blackguards too.

But single men in barricks, most remark-
able luce you ;

An' if sometimes our oonduck isn't all your
fancy paints,

Why, single men in barricks don't grow
into plaster saints. lb.

An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool— you bet
that Tommy sees ! lb.

So, ere's to you. Fuzzy- Wuzzy, at your 'ome
in the Soudan ;

Tou're a pore benighted 'eathen, but a first-
class fightin' man. Fuzzy- Wuzzy.

Take 'old o* the Wings o' the Momin'.

An' flop round the earth till you're dead ;
But you won't get away from the tune that
they play
To the bloomin' old rag oTerhead.

The Widow at Windsor,

What should they know of England who
only England know P The Engli%h Flag.

Never was isle so little, never was sea so

But over the scud and the pcdm- trees an

English flag was flown. lb.

I've a head like a concertina : I've a tongue
like a button-stick. CelU.

Ship me somewhere east of Suez, where the

best is like the worst.
Where there aren't no Ten Commandments,

an' a man can raise a thirst Mandalay.

Though we called your friend from his bed
this night, he could not speak for you.

For the race is run by one and one and
never by two and two. Tomliruon,

But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old :
" If s clever, but is it Art ? "

The Conondram of the Workshop.

Oh, East is East, and West is West, and

never the twain shall meet,
Till earth and sky stand presently at God's

great judgment seat ;
But there is neither East nor West, Border,

nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face,

though they come from the ends of the

earth I The Ballad of East and West.

The tumult and the shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart ;

Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
A humble and a contrite heart.

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet

Lest we forget, lest we forget.

The Recessional HynuL

But till we are built like angels, with

hammer and chisel and pen.
We will work for ourself and a woman, for

ever and ever, Amen.

An Imperial Rescript.

Favouritism governed kissage
Even as it does in this age.
Departmental Ditties. General Summary.

Surely in toil or fray.
Under an alien slr^ ,
Comfort it is to say :
** Of no mean city am I ! "

The Seven Seas. Dedicatum,
But he couldn't lie if you paid him, ana
he'd starve before he stole.

The Mary Gloeter.
The Liner she's a lady.

The Liner sheU a Lady.
Sez 'e, " Fm a JoUy-'Er Majesty's JoUy—
soldier an' sailor too ! "

Soldier an* SaUortool

'E's a kind of a giddy harumfrodite — soldier

an' sailor too ! lb.

For Allah created the English mad— the

maddest of all mankind !

Kitchener's School.

Casting a ball at three straight sticks and

defending the same with a fourth. lb.

Take up the White Man's burden —

Send forth the best ye breed-
Go, bind your sons to exile

xo serve your captives' need ;
To wait, in heavy harness

On fiuttered folk and wild —
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,

Half devil and half child.

The White Hao*s Burden.*
By all ye will or whisper,

By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples

Shall weigh your God and you. lb.

All we have of freedom — all we use or

This our fathers bought for us, long and

long ago. The Old Issae.

Suffer not the old King under any name.

Step by step and word by word: who is

ruled may read.
Suffer not the old Kings— for we know the

breed. lb.

• An Address to the United SUtes, published
Feb. 4. 1809.


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There, till tlie Tision he foresaw, ^

Splendid and whole arise,
And nnimafined empires draw

To conncu neath ma skies,
The immense and brooding spirit still

Shall quicken and control.

Online LibraryW. Gurney (William Gurney) BenhamCassell's book of quotations, proverbs and household words .. → online text (page 29 of 198)