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The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Preface

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Brigade <strong>of</strong> Guards and the National Union <strong>of</strong> Mineworkers.<br />

Alan Watkins, quoting Macmillan, in ‘Observer’ 22 February 1981.<br />

Even Mr Gladstone only had a suitcase named after him.<br />

On opening a building at Pembroke College, <strong>Oxford</strong>, which had been given his name; attributed<br />

1.33 Leonard MacNally 1752-1820<br />

This lass so neat, with smiles so sweet,<br />

Has won my right good-will,<br />

I’d crowns resign to call thee mine,<br />

Sweet lass <strong>of</strong> Richmond Hill.<br />

‘<strong>The</strong> Lass <strong>of</strong> Richmond Hill’; also attributed to W. Upton in <strong>The</strong> <strong>Oxford</strong> Song Book, and to W. Hudson in S.<br />

Baring-Gould English Minstrelsie (1895) vol. 3<br />

1.34 Louis MacNeice 1907-63<br />

Better authentic mammon than a bogus god.<br />

‘Autumn Journal’ (1939) p. 49<br />

It’s no go the merrygoround, it’s no go the rickshaw,<br />

All we want is a limousine and a ticket for the peepshow.<br />

‘Bagpipe Music’ (1938)<br />

It’s no go the picture palace, it’s no go the stadium,<br />

It’s no go the country cot with a pot <strong>of</strong> pink geraniums,<br />

It’s no go the Government grants, it’s no go the elections,<br />

Sit on your arse for fifty years and hang your hat on a pension.<br />

‘Bagpipe Music’ (1938)<br />

It’s no go my honey love, it’s no go my poppet;<br />

Work your hands from day to day, the winds will blow the pr<strong>of</strong>it.<br />

<strong>The</strong> glass is falling hour by hour, the glass will fall for ever,<br />

But if you break the bloody glass you won’t hold up the weather.<br />

‘Bagpipe Music’ (1938)<br />

And under the totem poles—the ancient terror—<br />

Between the enormous fluted Ionic columns<br />

<strong>The</strong>re seeps from heavily jowled or hawk-like foreign faces<br />

<strong>The</strong> guttural sorrow <strong>of</strong> the refugees.<br />

‘<strong>The</strong> British Museum Reading Room’ (1941)<br />

Crumbling between the fingers, under the feet,<br />

Crumbling behind the eyes,<br />

<strong>The</strong>ir world gives way and dies<br />

And something twangs and breaks at the end <strong>of</strong> the street.<br />

‘Dèbâcle’ (1941)<br />

Time was away and somewhere else,

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