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The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Preface

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And the children stood watching them out <strong>of</strong> the town.<br />

‘<strong>The</strong> Three Fishers’<br />

For men must work, and women must weep,<br />

And there’s little to earn, and many to keep,<br />

Though the harbour bar be moaning.<br />

‘<strong>The</strong> Three Fishers’<br />

When all the world is young, lad,<br />

And all the trees are green;<br />

And every goose a swan, lad,<br />

And every lass a queen;<br />

<strong>The</strong>n hey for boot and horse, lad,<br />

And round the world away:<br />

Young blood must have its course, lad,<br />

And every dog his day.<br />

‘Young and Old’ (from ‘<strong>The</strong> Water Babies’, 1863)<br />

To be discontented with the divine discontent, and to be ashamed with the noble shame, is the<br />

very germ and first upgrowth <strong>of</strong> all virtue.<br />

‘Health and Education’ (1874) p. 20<br />

We have used the Bible as if it was a constable’s handbook—an opium-dose for keeping beasts<br />

<strong>of</strong> burden patient while they are being overloaded.<br />

‘Letters to the Chartists’ no. 2.<br />

As thorough an Englishman as ever coveted his neighbour’s goods.<br />

‘<strong>The</strong> Water Babies’ (1863) ch. 4<br />

Eustace is a man no longer; he is become a thing, a tool, a Jesuit.<br />

‘Westward Ho!’ (1855) ch. 23<br />

Truth, for its own sake, had never been a virtue with the Roman clergy.<br />

Reviewing J. A. Froude’s History <strong>of</strong> England, in ‘Macmillan’s Magazine’ January 1864<br />

11.38 Hugh Kingsmill (Hugh Kingsmill Lunn) 1889-1949<br />

What still alive at twenty-two,<br />

A clean upstanding chap like you?<br />

Sure, if your throat ’tis hard to slit,<br />

Slit your girl’s, and swing for it.<br />

Like enough, you won’t be glad,<br />

When they come to hang you, lad:<br />

But bacon’s not the only thing<br />

That’s cured by hanging from a string.<br />

‘Two Poems, after A. E. Housman’ (1933) no. 1<br />

’Tis Summer Time on Bredon,<br />

And now the farmers swear:

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