W. Gurney (William Gurney) Benham.

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

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There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years.

And all that'hfe is love. lb.

Tfirfier^ higher will we dimb

up the mount of glory.
That our names may live through time

In our country's story.

Aspirations of Tenth.

X>eeper, deeper let us tofl

In the mines of knowledge. Ih,

'When Hm good man yields his breath,
(For the good man never dies).

TIm Wanderer of Bwitsarland. Fart 5.

The friend of him who has no friend —
Religion. The Pillow.

T^e is eternity begun. A If other's Love.

Pnrer is the soul's sincere desire,

Uttered or unexpressed,
The motion of a hidden fire

That trembles in the breast.

Hynmi. Prayer,

Ki^ YB the time to weep. Night,

The sad relief
That misery loves — the fellowship of grief.
The West Indies. Fart 3,

To ioys too exquisite to last,
Azia yet more exquisite when past.

The Little Cloud.

Bliss in poasesnon will not last,
fiemembered joys are never past. Ih.

Cbusdence, that bosom-hell of guilty man.
The Pelican Island.
Gashed with honourable scan,
Low in gloij's lap they he ;
Tboagh they feU, they fell like s^,
^^aning splendour through the sky.
s^viUM^B *- ^^^^ ^j Alexandria.

If God hath made tliis world so fair,

Where sin and death abound,
How beautiful, beyond compare,

Will paradise be found !

The Earth full of God's Goodness.

A day in such serene enjo^ent spent
Is worth an age of splendid discontent

Greenland, t.

Labour is but refreshment from repose. lb.
Where justice reigns, 'tis freedom to obey.

Jb.f 4*



The solitary monk that shook the world.
Luther. Man'* need and God^& tupply, I. 67,

(JAMES GRAHAM) (1612-1650).

He either fears his fate too much.

Or his deserts are small,
That dares not put it to the touch

To gain or lose it all.*

If y Dear and only Love.

I^U make thee glorious by my pen.
And famous by my sword. lb,

EDWARD MOORE (1712.1757).
I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

The Oamester.f Act S, t.

The maid who modestly conceals
Her beauties, while she hides, reveals.
Fables. No. 10. The Spider and the Bee,

The trav'ller, if he chance to stray.

May tarn uncensured to his way ;

Polluted streams again are pure.

And deepest wounds admit a ciire ;

But woman no redemption knows ;

The wounds of honour never close. No. 15,

Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies,
And love unrewarded soon sickens and dies.

Bonj. It,

Poverty ! thou source of human art.
Thou great inspiror of the poet's song !

Hymn to Poverty.


Acting is therefore the lowest of the arts,
if it is an art at alL Hummer-worship.

Cruelbr was the vice of the ancient, vanitv
is that of the modem, world. lo,

* In Napier's "Memorials of Montrose" the
lines are given :

'•That puts it not nnto the tonch
To win or lose it all.**
t " The Gamester," produced 1758. See Samnel
Johnson's expression 1781, on the sale of Thrale's
breweiy (p. 177).


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We distribute tracts, the French distribute
medals. Helssonler and the Salon Jnlian.

All reformers are bachelors.

The Bending of the Bon^. Act 1,

The State and the family are for eyer at
war. /i.

It is not a question of race ; it is the land
itself that makes the Celt Act S,

After all there is but one race— humanity.

The difficulty in life is the choice. Act 4,

The wroni^ way always seems the more
reasonable. /^.

The man who loses his opportimity, loses
himself. ^ct 5,

THOMAS MOORE (1779-1862).
Still as death approaches nearer,
The joys of life are sweeter, dearer.

Odes of Anaoreon.
Where I lovo, I must not marry ;
Where I marry, cannot love.

Love and Ifarrla^e.
Wetjp on ; and, as thy sorrows flow,
I'll taste the iuxttry of %coe ! Anacreontic

For hope shall brighten days to come,
And memory gild the past ! Jb,

To love you is pleasant enough,
And, Oh ! 'tis delicious to hate


How shall we rank tAce upon Glory's page P

Thou more than soldier and just lessiSan

**«« ' To Thos. Hume, Esq.

Go where glory waits thee,

But while fame elates thee,

Oh ! still remember me.

Irish Helodles. Go where Glory,

The harp that once through Tara's halls

The soul of music shed.
Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls

As it that soul were fled.

The Harp that once.
And hearts that once beat high for praise

Wow feel that pulse no more. Ih,

FI V not vet ; 'tis iust the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eve of vulgar light
Begins to bloom for sons of night.

And maids who love the moon.
Oh!stay-oh!stay_ ^V not yet.

Jov so seldom weaves a chain
Like tiiis to-niffht. that, oh ! 'tis pain

To break its links so soon. *^ Jb,

Oh! think not my spirits are always as light,
And as free from a pang as they seem to
you now. Oh ! think not.

No ; Uf e is a waste of wearisome hours,
.Which seldom the rose of enjoyment
And the heart that is soonest awake to the
Is always the first to be touched by the
thorns. /j.

The thread of our life would be dark.
Heaven knows !
If it were not with friendship and love
intertwined. 74^

Rich and rare were the gems she wore.
And a bright gold ring on her hand she boz«.
Mieh and rare.
And blest for ever is she who relied
Upon Erin's honour and Erin's pride. Ih,
How dear to me the hour when daylight die^

And sunbeams melt along the silent sea.
For then sweet dreams of other dajrs arise.
And memory breathes her vesper sigh to
And, as I watch the line of light, that plays
Along the smooth wave toward the
burning west,
I long to tread that golden path of rays.
And think 'twouldlead to some bright isle
o^ rest How dear to me.

Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by
my side
In the cause of mankind, if our creeds
agree ? Ome tend round the wine.

No, the heart that has truly loved never
But as truly loves on to the close !
As the sunflower turns on her god, when he
The same look which she turned when he
rose. Believe Me, i/aU.

Oh ! blame not the bard. Oh ! blame not.
The moon looks
On many brooks ;
The brook can see no moon but this.*

While gazing wi.

And when once the young heart of a maiden
is stolen.
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.

fw. f VI.*, ^^ Oment,

Oh ! remember life can be

No charm for him who lives not free !

Like the day-star in the wave,

Sinks a hero in his grave,
'Midst the dew-fall of a nation's tears

Before the hattU,

• Suggested by the paMsge In Sir WilllMn
Jones : " The moon looks upon msny night
flowers ; the night flowers see bat one moon."


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No, tbere*t nothing half so sweet in life
As lore's young dieam.

Irish Helodies. Love*i young dream.

And the tribute most high to a head that is

Is loTe from a heart that loves liberty too.
The FrineeU day,

O Freedom ! once thy flame hath fled,
It never lights agam. Weep on, iceep on.

They'll wondering ask how hands so Tile
Conld conquer hearts so brave. lb,

Lesbia hath a beaming eye,
But no one knows for whom it beameth.
Letbia hath.

Eyes of most unholy blue. By that lake.

Though sweet are our friendships, our hopes,
our affections,
Berenge on a tyrant is sweetest of all !

Avenging and bright.

This life is all chequered with pleasures
and woes. Thia life is alL

To live with them is far less sweet
Than to remember thee. / saw thy form,

ms the last rose of summer

Left blooming alone ;
All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone. *1U the last rose.

Thai awake ! the heavens look bright, my

'TIS never too late for delight, my dear ;
And the beet of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my
dear.* I%e young May Moon,

Ton may break, you may shatter the vase if

yoa wul.
Bat the scent of the roses will hang round

itstm. Farewell ! but whenever.

Seasons may roIL
But the true soul,
Boms the same where'er it goes.

Vome o^er the sea,

Ko eye to watch, and no tongue to wound

An earth forgot, and all heaven around us.

Hate cannot wish thee worse
Than guilt and shame have made thee.

fFhen first I met thee,

* " Bot ve thst have but span-long life.
The thicker most lay on the pleasure ;
And sine* timo wUl not stay,
Well sdd night to the day.
Thus, than well fill the measure.**
—Duet printed 1796, but probably of earlier date.

The light that Uet

In woman's eye?,
Has been my heart's undoing.

The time Pve lost,

M^ only books

"Were woman's looks,
And folly's all they've taught me.t lb.

Come rest in this bosom, my own stricken

Though the herd have fled from thee, thy

love is still here. Come rest in this bosom.

I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart,
But I know that I love uiee, whatever thou

art. Jb,

Fill the bumper fair !

Every drop we sprinkle
O'er the brow of Care.

Smooths away a wrinkle.

Fill the bumper,

Wert thou all that I wish thee, — great,

glorious, and free —
First flower of the earth, and first gem of

the sea. Remember thee !

Far dearer the grave or the prison,

Illumed by one patriot name,
Than the trophies of all who have risen

On liberty's ruins to fame !

Forget not thejield.

They may rail at this life — from the hour I
began it,
I've found it a life full of kindness and
And until they can show me some happier
Moresocnal and bright, I'll content me
with this. They may rail

And doth not a meeting like this make
For all the long years Tve been wandering
away ? And doth not a meeting.

To place and power all public spirit tends,
In place and power all public spirit ends.

But bees, on flowers alighting, cease their

So, settling upon places, Whigs grow dumb.

Rebels in Cork are patriots at Madrid !
Oh ! trust me, Self can cloud the brightest

Or gild the worst The Sceptic,

And one wild Shakspeare, following

Nature's lights,
Is worth whole planets filled with Stagyrites.

t " The virtue of lier lively looks
Excels the precious stone ;
I wish to have none other books
To read or look upon." ^

— " Songs and Sonnets " (IWT)


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A Persian's heaven is easily made,
'Tis but — block eyes and lemonade.

The Twopenny Post Bag. Letter 6.

Still the fattest and best-fitted P e about

town. Letter 7,

Because it is a slender thinff of wood,
That up and down its awKward arm doth

And coolly spout and spout and spout

In one weak, washy, everlastinff flood.*

Trifles. WhaVi my thought like t

This world is all a fleeting show,
For man's illusion given.

Bacred Bongs. Thit tccrld is all.

Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark

sea !
Jehovah hath triumphed — ^his peopile are

free. Sound the loud timbrel.

Earth has no sorrow that Heavvi cannot
heoL Come, ye disconsolate.

Young fire-eyed disputants, who deem their

On points of faith, more eloquent than

words. Lalla Rookh. The Veiled Frophet.

From Persia's eyes of full and fawn-like ray.
To the small, half-shut glances of KathQ,y.

One clear idea, wakened in his breast
By memory's magic, lets in all the rest. lb.

That Prophet ill sustains his holy call,
Wlio finds not heavens to suit the tastes of
all. lb.

This speck of life in time's great wilderness.
This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boimdless

The past, the future, two eternities ! lb.

There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's
And the nightingale sings round it all the
day long. lb.

Impatient of a scene whose luxuries stole.
Spite of himself, too deep into his soul. lb.

And, with one crash of fate,
Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate.


Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought

grew pain. lb.

Like the stained web that whitens in the

Grow pure by being purely shone upon. lb.

In all the graceful gratitude of power
For his throne's safety in that perilous hour.


• Answer to the question ; " Why is ft pomp
Uke ViBcooQt CasilereaKb 1 "

But Faith, fanatic Faith, onoe wedded fast
To some dear falsehood, nugs it to the last.

One Mom a Peri at the gate
Of Eden stood disconsolate.

Paradiu and the Peri,

Some flowerets of Eden ye still inherit.
But the trail of the Serpent is over them all!

Joy, joy for ever !— my task is done —
The Gates are past, and Heaven is won !

One of that saintly mnrderouB brood
To carnage and the Koran given.

The Fire Worshippers.

Oh ! ever thus from childhood's hour,

I've seen my fondest hopes decay ;
I never loved a tree or flower.

But 'twas the first to fade away.
I never nursed a dear gazelle.

To glad me with its soft black eve.
But when it came to know me well.

And love me, it was sure to die ! Ih,

It is only to the happy that tears are a
luxury. lb. {Prologue No. t.)

Bebellion ! foul, dishonouring word,

Whose wrongful blight so oft has stuned
The holiest cause that tongue or sword

Of mortal ever lost or gained.
How many a spirit, bom to bless.

Hath Btmk beneath that withering name,
Whom but a day's, an hour's success,

Had wafted to eternal fame ! lb.

Like Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye.
But turn to ashes on the lips : lb.

Beholding heaven, and feeling heU. lb.

Yes— for a spirit, pure as hers,

Is always pure, even while it errs ;

As sunsnine, broken in the rill.

Though turned astray, is sunshine stilL Ih,

Deep, deep — where never care or pain,
Shall reach her innocent heart again ! lb,

Alas — how light a cause may move
Dissension between hearts that love !
Hearts that the world in vain had tiied.
And sorrow had more closely tied ;
That stood the storm, when waves were

Yet in a sxmny hour falls off.
Like ships, that have gone down at sea.
When heaven was all tranquillity ! Ih,

And oh ! if there be an elysium on earth,

It is this, it is this. lb.

None knew whether
The voice or lute was most divine.
So wondrously they went together. Jh.

Love on through all ills, and love on till ther
die. I9,


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■*This mtui be Uie mnsio," said ha, *< of the

For rm cunt if each note of it doesn't run

through one ! " The Fudge Family. 5.

Yet, who can help loving the land that haa

taught UB
Six hundred and eighty-fiye ways to diees

eggs?* 8,

All that*8 bright must fade, —
Ihe brightest stall the fleetest.

JUl that's bright.

lluMe erening bells ! those CTening bells !
How many a tale their music tells :
Of youth, and home, and that sweet lime
'When last I hc»ard their soothing chime,

Those ETening Bells.

A place for lovers and lovers only.

Dost then rsmsmbert

Oft, in the stiUy night,

lEn slumber's diain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me ;
The smilee and tears
Of hoyhood*s years.

Oft in ths stUly night.
I feel like one
yrho treads alone,
Some banqnet-hall deserted.
Whose lights are fled.
Whose garlands dead.
And all hut he departed ! lb.

At what I ping there's some may smile,
WThile some perhaps may sigh.

Hets and Cages.

A torture kept for those who know.
Know everything, and, worst of all.
Know and love virtue while they fall.

Loves of the Angels.

Like moonlight on the troubled sea.

Brightening tiie storm it cannot cahn. lb.

The extremes of too much faith, and none.
Fablss. Ho, 6.

The <:n*ator-dramatist>min8trel — who ran
Through each mode of the lyre, and was
master of all.

Lines on the Death of Bhsrldan.

Who ruled, like a wizard, the world of the
And could call np its sunshine, or bring
down its showers. lb.

Whose wit, in the combat, as gentle as
A'eV carried a heart-stain away on its


• FrmnM. •'On coonolt «n France 685 maniires
difcrSST d'accommoder lea cEufg. - D« la

One such authentic fact as this,
Is worth whole volumes theoretic.

Country Danes and Quadrllla.

Who point, like finger-posts, the way
They never go.

Song. J-'or the FiocO'Curante Society,

For oh. iit was nuts to the Father of Lies,
(As tnis wily fiend is named in the Bible),

To find it was settled by laws so wise
That the greater the truth, the worse the
libel A Case of LlbeL

For his was the error of head, not of heart.

The Slave.

Of all speculations the market holds forth.
The best that I know for a lover of pelf.

Is to buy up, at the price he is worth.

And then sell him at that which he sets on
himsell A Speculation.

If I speak to thee in Friendship's name.
Thou think' st I speak too coldly ;

If I mention Love's devoted flame,
Thou say'st I speak too boldly.

How shalll woof

For him there's a story in every breeze.
And a picture in every wave.
If .P. : or ths Blue Stocking. {Boat Glee,)

To sigh, yet feel no pain ;

To weep, yet scarce know why ;
To sport an nour with Beauty's chain,

Then throw it idly by. lb.

Where bastard Freedom waves
Her fustian flag in mockery over slaves.

To Lord Viscount Forbes.

I knew by the smoke that so gracefully
Above the green elms, that a cottage was
And I said, " If there's peace to be found in
the world,
A heart that was humble might hope for
it here." Ballad Stanzas.

Who has not felt how sadly sweet
The dream of home, the dream of home,

Steals o'er t-he heart, too soon to fleet.
When far o'er sea or land we roam ?

The Dream of Home.

Good at a fi^ht, but better at a play.
Godlike in giving, but the devil to pay.

On a Cast of Sheridan's Hand.

Disguise our bondage as we will,
'Tis woman, woman, rules us still.

Sovereign Woman*

Howe'er man rules in science and in art.
The sphere of woman's glories is the heart.
Epilogue to the Tragedy '* Ina.**


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We'ye had some happy houis together,
But jo J must often chonse its wing ;

And spring would be but gloomy weatiier,
If we had nothing else but spring.

Juvenile Poemi. To .

Twere more than woman to be wise ;
*Twere more than man to wish thee so.

The Rlrg.

Heaven grant him now some noble nook.
For, rest his soul, heM rather be

Genteelly damned beside a Duke,
Than saved in vulgar company.

Epitaph on a Toft-Hunter.

HANNAH MORE (1745-1833).

Accept my thoughts for thanks; I have
no words. Hotel.

In men this blunder still you find :
All think their little set mankind.

Plorlo.— The Has Bleu.

Small habits well pursued betimes
May reach the dignity of crimes.


He liked those literary cooks

Who skim the cream of otiiers' books ;

And ruin half an author^s graces

By plucking bon-nwU from their places, lb.

To those who know thee not, no words can

paint ;
And those who know thee know all words

are faint Sensibility.

Since trifles make the simi of human things,
And half our misery from our foibles

Since life s best joys consist in peace and

And though but few can serve yet all may

please ;
O ! let th* ungentle spirit learn from hence,
A small unkiudnesa is a great offence.
To sjpread large bounties though we wish in

Yet all may shun the guilt of gnving pain.

/. 293.
The soul on earth is an immortal guest.
Compelled to starve at an imreal feast.

Reflections of Kin^ Hezakiah. /. 125.

A pilgrim panting for the rest to come ;
An exile, anxious for his native home ;
A drop dissevered from the boundless sea ;
A moment parted from eternity. /. It9,

[Sir] THOMAS MORE, Lord Chan-
cellor (1478-1585).

So both the Baven and the Ape thincke
their owne yonge the fairest.

Utopia. iTramlated from Latin by
£alph Itobinton, 1661?)

For they maveyle that any man be io
folyshe as to have delite and pleasure in the
doubteful glisteringe of a lytil tEyfelljmge
stone, which maye beholde annye of the
starres or elles the sonne it selfe. lb.

What delite can there be, and not rather
djTspleasure in hearynge the barkynge and
howlynge of doggesf Or what greater
pleasure is there to be felte when a dogge
foUoweth a hare than when a dogge ^-
loweth a dogge P lb.

The man of law, that never saw

The wavs to buy and sell,
Wenyng to rise by merchandise,
I pray God spede him well !

A Rerry Jest.
For men use, if they have an evil toume,
to write it in marble ; and whoso doth us a
good toume we wOl write it in duste.

Richard IIL
He should, as he list, be able to prove the
moon made of grene cheese.

English Worki. p. tS6.

No more like together than is chalke to

coles. p. €74.

A fonde olde manne is often as full of

woordes as a woman. p. 1^169.

Whosoever loveth me loveth my hound.

First Sermon on the Lord's Prayer.

[Rt. Hon.] JOHN MORLEY, 1st Vis-
count Morley (b. 1838).

The ^eat business of life is to be, to do,
to do without, and to depart.

Address on Aphorisms (1SS7).

Those who would treat politics and
morality apart will never understand the
one or the other. Rousseau, p. SSO,

You cannot demonstrate an emotion or
prove an aspiration. p. 402.

The French tong^ue, which is the speech
of the clear, the cheerful, or Uie august
among men. p, 4S6,

Literature — ^the most seductive, the most

deceiving, the most dangerous of professions.

Burke, p. 9.

It is always interesting, in the case of a
great man, to know how he affected the
women of his acquaintance. p. 116^

We could only wish that the years had
brought to him what it ought — to be the
fervent prayer of all of us to find at the lonsf
close of the struggle with ourselves and with
circumstances— a disposition to happiness, a
composed spirit to which time has made
things clear, an uurebcllious temper, and
hopes undimmed for mankind. p. 299.

No man can climb out beyond the limita-
tions of his own character.

■Isoellanles. Mobetpierrt, p. 9S,


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A. gt«at interpreter of Hf e oagbt not him-
te\i to need int^-pretation.

Mlscallanles. £fiuraon. p, 293.

letter- writing, that most delightful way
of wasting time.

Life of Geo, Eliot, p, if6.

The most frightful idea that has eyer
corroded httman nature, the idea of eternal
punishment. Vauvenargues, p. t27.

Where it is a duty to worship the sun it
is pretty sure to he a crime to examine the
laws of heat. Yoltalre. p, 11,

It is not enough to do good ; one must do
it in a good way. On Ck>mpromise. p. 68.

Erolution is not a fviroe hut a process, not
a cause tut a law. p. 210.

Ton haye not conyerted a man hecause
ycu haye silenced him. p. 246,

Simplicity of character is no hindrance to
■nbtlety of intellect.

Ufe of Gladstone. Vol 1, p. 194,

Eycry man of us has all the centuries in
him. p, 201,

CHARLES MORRIS (1745-1888).
Solid men of Boston, hanish long pota-

Solid men of Boston, make no long


Pitt and Dundee's return to London.*

A house is much more to my taste than a

And for groves, O! a good grove of

chimneys for me. The Contrast.

Oh^ give me the sweet shady side of Pall
MaU I lb,



Woodman, spare that tree !

Touch not a single hough I
In youth it sheltered me,

And m protect it now.

Woodman, Spare that Tree.t (1880.)

Bound the hearth-stone of home, in the

land of our hirth.
The holiest spot on the face of the earth ?
Land Ho!

* ** Solid men of Boston, make no long orations ;
Solid men of Boston, drink no long potations ;
Solid ni«i of Boston, go to bed at sundown ;
^arer Ibme your way like th* loggerhesds
of London.''

-•« Billy Pitt ana ae Pinner."

PHoted fa "Asylum for FugiUve Pieces" a786),

witboat sQtbor's name.

f " 8j»je, woodman, spare the bsechen tree."

~T. dufFanx ; " Tns Bweh Tree's Petition,''

A song for otir banner P Ihe watchword

Which gave the Bepuhlic her station ;
" United we stand— divided we fall ! "

It made and preserves us a nation !
The union of lakes — the union of lands —

The union of States none can sever —
The union of hearts — the union of hands —

And the Flag of our Union for ever !

The Fla^ of our Union.

[Sir] LEWIS MORRIS (1888-1908).
Call no faith false which e*er hath*hrought

Belief to any laden life,
Cessation from the pain of thought

Refreshment 'mia ^e dust of strife.

Son^s of Two Worlds. ToUranee.

Best springs from strife, and dissonant

chords beget
Divinest harmonies. Love't Suicide.

'Tis better far to love and be poor, than
be rich with an empty heart

Love in Death,

For this of old is sure,
That change of toil is toil's sufficient cure.


The passionate love of Bight, the burning

hat^ of Wrong. The Diamond Jubilee.

Knowledge is a steep ^hich few may

While Duty is a path which all may tread.

Online LibraryW. Gurney (William Gurney) BenhamCassell's book of quotations, proverbs and household words .. → online text (page 36 of 198)