DUKE OF WELLINGTON. 1769-1852. Nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won. Despatch, 1815. It is very true that I have said that I considered Napoleon's presence in the field equal to forty thousand men in the balance. This is a very loose way of talking; but the idea is a very different one from that of his presence at a battle being equal to a reinforcement of forty thousand men. Mem. by the Duke,1 Sept. 18, 1836. Circumstances over which I have no control.2 8 I never saw so many shocking bad hats in my life. Upon seeing the first Reformed Parliament. There is no mistake; there has been no mistake; and there shall be no mistake.1 Letter to Mr. Huskisson. JOHN TOBIN. 1770-1804. The man that lays his hand upon a woman, Amply that in her husband's eye looks lovely,— Act iii. Sc. 4. 1 STANHOPE: Conversations with the Duke of Wellington, p. 81. 2 This phrase was first used by the Duke of Wellington in a letter, about 1839 or 1840. SALA: Echoes of the Week, in London Illustrated News, Aug. 23, 1884. 8 Sir William Fraser, in "Words on Wellington " (1889), p. 12, says this phrase originated with the Duke. Captain Gronow, in his "Recollections," says it originated with the Duke of York, second son of George III., about 1817. 4 This gave rise to the slang expression, "And no mistake." - Words on Wellington, p. 122. GEORGE CANNING. 1770–1827. Story! God bless you! I have none to tell, sir. I give thee sixpence! I will see thee damned first. So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides Ibid. The Loves of the Triangles. Line 178. And finds, with keen, discriminating sight, New Morality. Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe, Ibid. I called the New World into existence to redress the balance of the Old. The King's Message, Dec. 12, 1826. No, here's to the pilot that weathered the storm! 1 "Defend me from my friends; I can defend myself from my enemies." The French Ana assign to Maréchal Villars this aphorism when taking leave of Louis XIV. 2 See Shakespeare, page 74. JOSEPH HOPKINSON. 1770-1842. Hail, Columbia! happy land! Hail, ye heroes! heaven-born band! Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause, Enjoyed the peace your valor won. Let its altar reach the skies! Hail, Columbia ! WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.1 1770-1850. Oh, be wiser thou! Instructed that true knowledge leads to love. Lines left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree. And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, Guilt and Sorrow. Stanza 41. Action is transitory, a step, a blow; The Borderers. Act iii. Three sleepless nights I passed in sounding on, Act iv. Sc. 2. 1 Coleridge said to Wordsworth ("Memoirs" by his nephew, vol. ii. p. 74), Since Milton, I know of no poet with so many felicities and unforgettable lines and stanzas as you." 2 The intellectual power, through words and things, Went sounding on a dim and perilous way! The Excursion, book iii. A simple child That lightly draws its breath, mind O Reader! had you in your A tale in everything. I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning. In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts We are Seven. Simon Lee. Ibid. Lines written in Early Spring. And 't is my faith, that every flower Nor less I deem that there are Powers Ibid. Expostulation and Reply. Up! up! my friend, and quit your books, Up! up! my friend, and clear your looks! Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your teacher. One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can. The Tables Turned. Ibid. Ibid. The bane of all that dread the Devil. The Idiot Boy. Sensations sweet, Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart. Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey. That best portion of a good man's life, That blessed mood, In which the burden of the mystery, In which the heavy and the weary weight Is lightened. Ibid. Ibid. The fretful stir Ibid. Unprofitable, and the fever of the world. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion; the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, An appetite, a feeling and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm By thoughts supplied, nor any interest But hearing oftentimes. The still, sad music of humanity. A sense sublime Of something far more deeply interfused, Ibid. Ibid. All thinking things, all objects of all thought, Ibid. Knowing that Nature never did betray The heart that loved her. Ibid. |