Death.
‘Margaritae Sororis’ (1888)
What have I done for you, England, my England?
‘Pro Rege Nostro’ (1900).
8.74 Henri IV 1553-1610
Je veux qu’il n’y ait si pauvre paysan en mon royaume qu’il n’ait tous les dimanches sa poule au pot.
I want there to be no peasant in my kingdom so poor that he is unable to have a chicken in his
pot every Sunday.
In Hardouin de Pèrèfixe ‘Histoire de Henry le Grand’ (1681)
Pends-toi, brave Crillon; nous avons combattu á Arques et tu n’y ètais pas.
Hang yourself, brave Crillon; we fought at Arques and you were not there.
Traditional form given by Voltaire to a letter from Henri to Crillon, 20 September 1597, in Lettres missives de Henri IV, Collection des documents inédits de l’histoire de France vol. 4 (1847) p. 848. Henri’s actual words were
Brave Crillon, pendez-vous de n’avoir ètè ici prés de moi lundi dernier á la plus belle occasion qui se soit jamais vue et qui peut-être se verra jamais.
Brave Crillon, hang yourself for not having been at my side last Monday on the finest occasion which ever has been or which perhaps ever will be.
Paris vaut bien une messe.
Paris is well worth a mass.
Attributed either to Henri IV, or to his minister Sully in conversation with Henri
The wisest fool in Christendom.
Referring to James I of England, attributed both to Henri IV and Sully. The French original is not known.
8.75 Henry II 1133-89
Will no one revenge me of the injuries I have sustained from one turbulent priest?
Of St Thomas Becket (December 1170), as in oral tradition. G. Lyttelton ‘History of the Life of King Henry the Second’ (1769) pt. 4, p. 353; also Herbert of Bosham ‘Vita Sancti Thomae’ bk. 5, ch. 11 in ‘The Rolls Series’ 67 ‘Materials for the History of Thomas Becket’ 3 (1887) p. 487
8.76 Henry VIII 1491-1547
The King found her [Anne of Cleves] so different from her picture...that...he swore they had brought him a Flanders mare.
Tobias Smollett ‘Complete History of England’ (3rd ed., 1759) vol. 6, p. 68
This man hath the right sow by the ear.
Attributed (of Thomas Cranmer)
8.77 Matthew Henry 1662-1714
The better day, the worse deed.
‘An Exposition on the Old and New Testament’ (1710) Genesis ch. 3, v. 6, gloss 2
He rolls it under his tongue as a sweet morsel.
‘An Exposition of the Old and New Testament’ (1710) Psalm 36, v. 2, gloss 1
They that die by famine die by inches.
‘An Exposition of the Old and New Testament’ (1710) Psalm 59, v. 15, gloss 5 (referring incorrectly to v. 13)
All this and heaven too.
Attributed
8.78 O. Henry (William Sydney Porter) 1862-1910
Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
‘Four Million’ (1906) ‘Gift of the Magi’
It was beautiful and simple as all truly great swindles are.
‘Gentle Grafter’ (1908) ‘Octopus Marooned’
Turn up the lights; I don’t want to go home in the dark.
Last words, quoting 1907 song by Harry Williams, in Charles Alphonso Smith ‘O. Henry Biography’ (1916) ch. 9.
8.79 Patrick Henry 1736-99
Caesar had his Brutus—Charles the First, his Cromwell—and George the Third—(‘Treason,’ cried the Speaker)...may profit by their example. If this be treason, make
the most of it.
Speech in the Virginia assembly, May 1765, in William Wirt ‘Patrick Henry’ (1818) sect. 2, p. 65
I am not a Virginian, but an American.
In [John Adams’s] Notes of Debates in the Continental Congress, Philadelphia, 6 September 1774: L. H. Butterfield (ed.) ‘Diary and Autobiography of John Adams’ (1961) vol. 2, p. 125
I know not what course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!
Speech in Virginia Convention, 23 March 1775, in William Wirt ‘Patrick Henry’ (1818) sect. 4, p. 123
8.80 Joseph Henshaw 1603-79
One doth but breakfast here, another dines, he that liveth longest doth but sup; we must all go to bed in another world.
‘Horae Succisivae’ (1631) pt. 1, p. 80
8.81 Heraclitus fl. 513 B.C.
Everything flows and nothing stays.
In Plato ‘Cratylus’ 402a
You can’t step twice into the same river.
In Plato ‘Cratylus’ 402a
A man’s character is his fate.
‘On the Universe’ Fragment 121 (translated for Loeb Classical Library by W. H. S. Jones).
The road up and the road down are one and the same.
In H. Diels and W. Krauz ‘Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker’ (7th ed., 1954) fragment 60
8.82 A. P. Herbert 1890-1971
Don’t let’s go to the dogs tonight, For mother will be there.
‘Don’t Let’s Go to the Dogs Tonight’ (1926)
Don’t tell my mother I’m living in sin, Don’t let the old folks know.
‘Don’t Tell My Mother I’m Living in Sin’ (1925)
The Farmer will never be happy again; He carries his heart in his boots;
For either the rain is destroying his grain Or the drought is destroying his roots.
‘The Farmer’ (1922)
As my poor father used to say In 1863,
Once people start on all this Art Goodbye, moralitee!
‘Lines for a Worthy Person’ (1930)
Other people’s babies— That’s my life!
Mother to dozens, And nobody’s wife.
‘Other People’s Babies’ (1930) (also a 1934 song, with music by Vivian Ellis)
This high official, all allow, Is grossly overpaid;
There wasn’t any Board, and now There isn’t any Trade.
‘The President of the Board of Trade’ (1922)
Nothing is wasted, nothing is in vain: The seas roll over but the rocks remain.
‘Tough at the Top’ (operetta c.1949)
Holy deadlock.
Title of novel (1934)
People must not do things for fun. We are not here for fun. There is no reference to fun in any Act of Parliament.
‘Uncommon Law’ (1935) ‘Is it a Free Country?’
The critical period in matrimony is breakfast-time.
‘Uncommon Law’ (1935) ‘Is Marriage Lawful?’
‘Was the cow crossed?’ ‘No, your worship, it was an open cow.’
‘Uncommon Law’ (1935) ‘The Negotiable Cow’ (in which an attempt is made to write a cheque on a cow)
The Common Law of England has been laboriously built about a mythical figure—the figure of ‘The Reasonable Man’.
‘Uncommon Law’ (1935) ‘The Reasonable Man’
8.83 Lord Herbert of Cherbury 1583-1648
Now that the April of your youth adorns The garden of your face.
‘Ditty: Now that the April’ (1665)
8.84 George Herbert 1593-1633
Whereas my birth and spirit rather took The way that takes the town;
Thou didst betray me to a lingering book, And wrap me in a gown.
‘Affliction (1)’ (1633) l. 37
Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me None of my books will show:
I read, and sigh, and wish I were a tree; For then I should grow
To fruit or shade: at least some bird would trust Her household to me, and I should be just.
‘Affliction (1)’ (1633) l. 55
Ah, my dear God! though I am clean forgot, Let me not love Thee, if I love Thee not.
‘Affliction (1)’ (1633) l. 65
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine, Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.
‘The Agonie’ (1633) l. 17
Let all the world in ev’ry corner sing My God and King.
The heavens are not too high, His praise may thither fly; The earth is not too low,
His praises there may grow.
Let all the world in ev’ry corner sing My God and King.
The Church with psalms must shout, No door can keep them out:
But above all, the heart Must bear the longest part.
‘Antiphon: Let all the world in ev’ry corner sing’ (1633)
Hearken unto a Verser, who may chance
Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure. A verse may find him, who a sermon flies,
And turn delight into a sacrifice.
‘The Church Porch’ (1633) st. 1
O England! full of sin, but most of sloth;
Spit out thy phlegm, and fill thy breast with glory.
‘The Church Porch’ (1633) st. 16
Judge not the preacher, for he is thy Judge: If thou mislike him, thou conceiv’st him not. God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge To pick out treasures from an earthen pot.
The worst speaks something good: if all want sense, God takes a text, and preacheth patience.
‘The Church Porch’ (1633) st. 72
I struck the board, and cried, ‘No more. I will abroad.’
What? shall I ever sigh and pine?
My lines and life are free; free as the road, Loose as the wind, as large as store.
Shall I be still in suit?
Have I no harvest but a thorn To let me blood, and not restore
What I have lost with cordial fruit? Sure there was wine
Before my sighs did dry it; there was corn Before my tears did drown it;
Is the year only lost to me? Have I no bays to crown it?
‘The Collar’ (1633)
Away; take heed: I will abroad.
Call in thy death’s-head there: tie up thy fears. He that forbears
To suit and serve his need, Deserves his load.
But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild At every word,
Methought I heard one calling, ‘Child’;
And I replied, ‘My Lord.’
‘The Collar’ (1633)
O that thou shouldst give dust a tongue To cry to thee,
And then not hear it crying!
‘Denial’ (1633) l. 16
Love is swift of foot; Love’s a man of war, And can shoot,
And can hit from far.
‘Discipline’ (1633)
I got me flowers to strew Thy way; I got me boughs off many a tree: But Thou wast up by break of day,
And brought’st Thy sweets along with Thee.
‘Easter’ (1633)
Teach me, my God and King, In all things Thee to see, And what I do in any thing To do it as for Thee.
‘The Elixir’ (1633)
A man that looks on glass, On it may stay his eye;
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass, And then the heaven espy.
‘The Elixir’ (1633)
A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine:
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws Makes that and th’ action fine.
‘The Elixir’ (1633)
Oh that I were an orange-tree, That busy plant!
Then I should ever laden be, And never want
Some fruit for Him that dressed me.
‘Employment: He that is weary, let him sit’ (1633)
Who would have thought my shrivelled heart Could have recovered greenness?
And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing: O my only Light, It cannot be
That I am he
On whom Thy tempests fell all night.
‘The Flower’ (1633)
Lovely enchanting language, sugar-cane, Honey of roses!
‘The Forerunners’ (1633)
Death is still working like a mole, And digs my grave at each remove.
‘Grace’ (1633)
I made a posy while the day ran by: Here will I smell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band.
But Time did beckon to the flowers, and they By noon most cunningly did steal away, And withered in my hand.
‘Life’ (1633)
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, If I lacked any thing.
‘Love: Love bade me welcome’ (1633)
‘You must sit down,’ says Love, ‘and taste my meat.’ So I did sit and eat.
‘Love: Love bade me welcome’ (1633)
For us the winds do blow,
The earth doth rest, heaven move, and fountains flow. Nothing we see, but means our good,
As our delight or as our treasure:
The whole is either our cupboard of food, Or cabinet of pleasure.
‘Man’ (1633)
Oh mighty love! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him.
‘Man’ (1633)
When boys go first to bed,
They step into their voluntary graves.
‘Mortification’ (1633)
Exalted manna, gladness of the best, Heaven in ordinary, man well drest, The Milky Way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood, The land of spices; something understood.
‘Prayer: Prayer the Church’s banquet’ (1633)
When God at first made man,
Having a glass of blessings standing by; Let us (said he) pour on him all we can: Let the world’s riches, which dispersed lie, Contract into a span.
‘The Pulley’ (1633)
He would adore my gifts instead of Me, And rest in Nature, not the God of Nature: So both should losers be.
‘The Pulley’ (1633)
Yet let him keep the rest,
But keep them with repining restlessness: Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.
‘The Pulley’ (1633)
But who does hawk at eagles with a dove?
‘The Sacrifice’ (1633) l. 91
Man stole the fruit, but I must climb the tree.
‘The Sacrifice’ (1633) l. 202
Lord, with what care Thou hast begirt us round! Parents first season us: then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws; they send us bound
To rules of reason, holy messengers, Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes, Fine nets and stratagems to catch us in, Bibles laid open, millions of surprises.
‘Sin: Lord, with what care Thou hast begirt us round!’ (1633)
Yet all these fences and their whole array
One cunning bosom—sin blows quite away.
‘Sin: Lord, with what care Thou hast begirt us round!’ (1633)
Grasp not at much, for fear thou losest all.
‘The Size’ (1633)
The God of love my Shepherd is, And He that doth me feed: While He is mine, and I am His, What can I want or need?
‘The 23rd Psalm’ (1633).
Lord, make me coy and tender to offend: In friendship, first I think, if that agree Which I intend,
Unto my friend’s intent and end.
I would not use a friend, as I use Thee.
‘Unkindness’ (1633)
My friend may spit upon my curious floor: Would he have gold? I lend it instantly; But let the poor,
And Thou within them, starve at door. I cannot use a friend, as I use Thee.
‘Unkindness’ (1633)
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky,
The dew shall weep thy fall to-night; For thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue angry and brave
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye:
Thy root is ever in its grave,
And thou must die.
Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie;
My music shows ye have your closes,
And all must die.
‘Virtue’ (1633)
Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like seasoned timber, never gives;
But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.
‘Virtue’ (1633)
He that makes a good war makes a good peace.
‘Outlandish Proverbs’ (1640) no. 420
He that lives in hope danceth without music.
‘Outlandish Proverbs’ (1640) no. 1006
8.85 Robert Herrick 1591-1674
Here a little child I stand, Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee,
For a benison to fall
On our meat, and on us all. Amen.
‘Another Grace for a Child’
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers.
I sing of May-poles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
‘The Argument of his Book’ from ‘Hesperides’ (1648)
And once more yet (ere I am laid out dead) Knock at a star with my exalted head.
‘The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad’
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy: If so be, you ask me where
They do grow? I answer, there, Where my Julia’s lips do smile; There’s the land, or cherry-isle.
‘Cherry-Ripe’
Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
‘Corinna’s Going a-Maying’
Get up, sweet Slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree.
‘Corinna’s Going a-Maying’
So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade; All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drowned with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; Come, my Corinna, come, let’s go a-Maying.
‘Corinna’s Going a-Maying’
