"Woman, a pleasing but a short-lived flower, Too soft for business and too weak for power: A wife in bondage, or neglected maid: Despised, if ugly; if she’s fair, betrayed."

"O hear us when we cry to Thee For those in peril on the sea."

"Yet hath he loved the vision of this world, And found it good."

"It is well within the order of things That man should listen when his mate sings; But the true male never yet walked Who liked to listen when his mate talked."

"In the corridors under there is nothing but sleep. And stiller than ever on orchard boughs they keep Tryst with the moon, and deep is the silence, deep On moon-washed apples of wonder."

"Let those who feast at ease on dainty fare, Pity the reapers, who their feasts prepare."

"But she would weep to see today how on his skin the swart flies move; the dust upon the paper eye and the burst stomach like a cave.For here the lover and killer are mingled who had one body and one heart. And death, who had the soldier singled has done the lover mortal hurt."

"Like , our work is never done; Continually rolls back the restless stone."

"Prodigious might that union prove, Where Night and Day together move, And the conjunction of our lips Not kisses make but an eclipse; In which the mixed black and white Portends more terrour than delight."

"I am the Love that dare not speak its name."

"Remember me when I am dead And simplify me when I’m dead."

"The placid pug that paces in the park."

"From troubles of the world I turn to ducks, Beautiful comical things."

"We that did nothing study but the way To love each other, with which thoughts the day Rose with delight to us, and with them set, Must learn the hateful art, how to forget."

"O turn away those cruel eyes, The stars of my undoing! Or death, in such a bright disguise, May tempt a second wooing."

"So the industrious bees do hourly strive To bring their loads of honey to the hive; Their sordid owners always reap the gains, And poorly recompense their toils and pains."

"’Mid toil and tribulation, And tumult of her war, She waits the consummation Of peace for evermore; Till with the vision glorious Her longing eyes are blest, And the great Church victorious Shall be the Church at rest."

"Yet Saints their watch are keeping, Their cry goes up, ‘How long?’ And soon the night of weeping Shall be the morn of song."

"Weary of earth and laden with my sin, I look at heaven, and long to enter in."

"You must be sad; for though it is to Heaven, ’Tis hard to yield a little girl of seven."

"The Church’s one foundation Is Jesus Christ her Lord; She is His new creation By water and the Word."

"Love and a cottage! Eh, Fanny! Ah, give me indifference and a coach and six!"

"But we, how shall we turn to little things And listen to the birds and winds and streams Made holy by their dreams, Nor feel the heart-break in the heart of things?"

"Sleep on (my Love!) in thy cold bed Never to be disquieted. My last Good-night! Thou wilt not wake Till I thy fate shall overtake: Till age, or grief, or sickness must Marry my body to that dust It so much loves; and fill the room My heart keeps empty in thy tomb. Stay for me there: I will not fail To meet thee in that hollow vale. And think not much of my delay; I am already on the way, And follow thee with all the speed Desire can make, or sorrows breed."

"Though we all day with care our work attend, Such is our fate, we know when ’twill end. When evening’s come, you homeward take your way. We, till our work is done, are forced to stay"

"But hark! My pulse, like a soft drum Beats my approach, tells thee I come; And, slow howe’er my marches be, I shall at last sit down by thee. The thought of this bids me go on, And wait my dissolution With hope and comfort. Dear! (forgive The crime) I am content to live Divided, with but half a heart, Till we shall meet and never part."

"O passing beautiful—in this wild spot Temples, and tombs, and dwellings,—all forgot! One sea of sunlight far around them spread, And skies of sapphire mantling overhead. They seem no work of man’s creative hand, Where Labour wrought as wayward Fancy plann’d; But from the rock as if by magic grown, Eternal—silent—beautiful—alone! Not virgin white—like that old Doric shrine Where once Athena held her rites divine: Not saintly grey—like many a minster fane That crowns the hill, or sanctifies the plain: But rosy-red,—as if the blush of dawn Which first beheld them were not yet withdrawn: The hues of youth upon a brow of woe, Which men call’d old two thousand years ago! Match me such marvel, save in Eastern clime,— A rose-red city—‘half as old as Time!’"

"Either, with the best and wisest of all ages, you must believe the whole of Holy Scripture; or, with the narrow-minded infidel, you must disbelieve the whole. There is no middle course open to you."

"Meet we no angels, Pansie?"

"Since first I saw your face I resolved to honour and renown ye, If now I be disdained I wish my heart had never known ye. What? I that loved and you that liked shall we begin to wrangle? No, no no, my heart is fast, and cannot disentangle."

"There is a Lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die."

"Her free behaviour, winning looks Will make a Lawyer burn his books; I touched her not, alas! not I, And yet I love her till I die."

"Where beauty moves, and wit delights and signs of kindness bind me There, O there! where’er I go I’ll leave my heart behind me."

"Yet if his majesty our sovereign lord Should of his own accord Friendly himself invite, And say "I'll be your guest to-morrow night." How should we stir ourselves, call and command All hands to work! Let no man idle stand. [...] For 'tis a duteous thing To show all honour to an earthly king, [...] But at the coming of the King of Heaven All's set at six and seven: We wallow in our sin, Christ cannot find a chamber in the inn. We entertain him always like a stranger, And as at first still lodge him in the manger."

"Oh! that the memories which survive us here Were half so lovely as these wings of thine! Pure relics of a blameless life, that shine Now thou art gone."

"The little bee returns with evening's gloom, To join her comrades in the braided hive, Where, housed beside their mighty honey-comb, They dream their polity shall long survive."

"Old joys seem dead, old faces without joys; Laughter is dead. There is no mirth in boys."

"How like the leper, with his own sad cry Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls! That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals, To warn us from the place of jeopardy!"

"Hung on the shower that fronts the golden West, The rainbow bursts like magic on mine eyes! In hues of ancient promise there imprest; Frail in its date, eternal in its guise."

"Here, gunner, point thy thunder here."

"So we were launched by the Elizabethan seamen upon our long career of adventure across the seas: adventure leading to discovery, discovery to exploration, exploration to colonisation and settlement, and so to Empire. So that you might say the British Empire was a product — almost a by-product — of adventure. It certainly was not planned; it came into being naturally, gradually, as the result of the adventurous spirit, the stout heart and courage of our forefathers looking for a livelihood and an outlet for their energy and spirits across the ocean."

"The truth is that all these men exemplify a triumph of will-power: that is what enabled them to succeed. The strain made some of them harsh — Grenville was harsh, and Bligh of the Bounty. Perhaps Drake too — as certainly he was in his execution of Captain Doughty in South America, before breaking into the Pacific. Still you can't make an omelette without breaking some eggs. It is a mistake to be too soft; one can't expect to achieve anything without grit. That they all had."

"... I suggested that he write for Oldham's Press, which I was advising, a biography of Mountjoy: Elizabethan General. This was a congenial subject, which made the most of. ... ... 's long liaison with , the wife of , was recognised by society, until Mountjoy married the lady, when social humbug made a scandal of it. All this appealed to Cyril, who had a soldierly gallantry for the fair sex."

"We must put these things in the perspective of the age, its ubiquitous cruelty: flogging and beating were frequent, schoolmasters believed in beating learning into their pupils' heads — the exemplary was frequently beaten for her book. For scolds there were s or gags across the mouth, spiked chastity-belts for unreliable wives, s for women who made nuisances of themselves."