Hilaire Belloc (1870 – 1953)
British writer and poet, known chiefly for his essays and children's books; he was sometimes referred to by the nickname "Old Thunder".
[M]an knows his own nature, and that which he pursues must surely be his satisfaction? Judging by which measure I determine that the best thing in the world is flying at full speed from pursuit, and keeping up hammer and thud and gasp and bleeding till the knees fail and the head grows dizzy, and at last we all fall down and that thing (whatever it is) which pursues us catches us up and eats our carcasses. This way of managing our lives, I think, must be the best thing in the world—for nearly all men choose to live thus.
Child! Do not throw this book about;
Refrain from the unholy pleasure
Of cutting all the pictures out!
Preserve it as your chiefest treasure.
When the ephemeral vision's lure is past
All, all, must face their Passion at the last.
The Big Baboon is found upon
The plains of Cariboo:
He goes about with nothing on
(A shocking thing to do).
But if he dressed respectably
And let his whiskers grow,
How like this Big Baboon would be
To Mister So-and-so!
How did the party go in Portman Square?
I cannot tell you; Juliet was not there.
And how did Lady Gaster's party go?
Juliet was next me and I do not know.
Gentlemen, I am a Catholic. As far as possible, I go to Mass every day. This [taking a rosary out of his pocket] is a rosary. As far as possible, I kneel down and tell these beads every day. If you reject me on account of my religion, I shall thank God that He has spared me the indignity of being your representative.
All men have an instinct for conflict: at least, all healthy men.
In soft deluding lies let fools delight.
A shadow marks our days, which end in Night.
Torture will give a dozen pence or more
To keep a drab from bawling at his door.
The public taste is quite a different thing—
Torture is positively paid to sing.
Wherever the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s always laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
May all good fellows that here agree
Drink Audit Ale in heaven with me,
And may all my enemies go to hell!
Noël! Noël! Noël! Noël!
May all my enemies go to hell!
Noël! Noël!
The tender Evenlode that makes
Her meadows hush to hear the sound
Of waters mingling in the brakes,
And binds my heart to English ground.
?
A lovely river, all alone,
She lingers in the hills and holds
A hundred little towns of stone,
Forgotten in the western wolds.
Here richly, with ridiculous display,
The Politician's corpse was laid away.
While all of his acquaintance sneered and slanged
I wept: for I had longed to see him hanged.
When I am dead, I hope it may be said:
'His sins were scarlet, But his books were read'.
[M]others of large families (who claim to common sense)
Will find a Tiger well repay the trouble and expense.
That I grow sour, who only lack delight;
That I descend to sneer, who only grieve;
That from my depth I should
condemn your height,
That with my blame my mockery you receive—
Huntress and splendor of the woodland night—
Diana of this world, do not believe.
Kings live in Palaces, and Pigs in sties,
And youth in Expectation. Youth is wise.
It is sometimes necessary to lie damnably in the interests of the nation.
Oh, my friends, be warned by me,
That Breakfast, Dinner, Lunch, and Tea
Are all the Human Frame requires.
Is there no Latin word for Tea? Upon my soul, if I had known that I would have left the vulgar stuff alone.