Chickens-Childishness

49

What! all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
SHAKESPEARE, Macbeth, iv, 3

Chief. Hail to the chief who in triumph advances!
Honoured and blessed be the ever-green Pine!
Long may the tree, in his banner that glances,
Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line.

SCOTT, Lady of the Lake, Canto ii, st. 19

Child. I never seed nothing that could or can
Jest git all the good from the heart of a man
Like the hands of a little child.

JOHN HAY, Golyer, st. 4

A child don't not feel like a child till you miss him.
HOOD, The Lost Heir

Never shalt thou the heavens see,
Save as a little child thou be.1

LANIER, The Symphony, lines 333, 334

Behold the child, by Nature's kindly law,
Pleased with a rattle, tickled with a straw:
Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight,
A little louder, but as empty quite:

Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper stage,
And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age:
Pleased with this bauble still, as that before;
Till tired he sleeps, and life's poor play is o'er.

POPE, Essay on Man, Epistle ii, lines 275-282
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!

SHAKESPEARE, King Lear, i, 4

The child is father of the man."

WORDSWORTH, My Heart Leaps Up When I Behold

Childhood. How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,

When fond recollection presents them to view!

The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wildwood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew!

S. WOODWORTH, The Bucket, st. 1

Childishness.— Second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
SHAKESPEARE, As You Like It, ii, 7

1Matt. xviii, 3.

2 The childhood shows the man

As morning shows the day.

MILTON, Paradise Lost, v, lines 220, 221

Children. Children sweeten labours, but they make misfortune more bitter; they increase the cares of life, but they mitigate the remembrance of death.

BACON, Essay VII: Of Parents and Children

Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.

LONGFELLOW, The Children's Hour, st. 1
Our children's children

Shall see this, and bless heaven.

SHAKESPEARE, King Henry VIII, v, 5 [4]

Chimney. He is a little chimney, and heated hot in a moment.1

Chinee.

LONGFELLOW, Courtship of Miles Standish, vi, line 87

For ways that are dark

And for tricks that are vain,

The heathen Chinee is peculiar.-BRET HARTE,
Plain Language from Truthful James, st. 1

Chinese. We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor.

Ibid., st. 7

Chivalry. I thought that ten thousand swords would have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her [Marie Antoinette] with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded.

Choir.

EDMUND BURKE, Reflections on the
Revolution in France

The choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence.
GEORGE ELIOT, O, May I Join the Choir

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing

Ez his'n in the choir;

Invisible, st. I

My! when he made Ole Hunderd ring,
She knowed the Lord was nigher.

LOWELL, The Courtin', st. II

Choler. Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frightened when a madman stares?

SHAKESPEARE, Julius Cæsar, iv, 3

What! drunk with choler?

SHAKESPEARE, King Henry IV, Part I, i, 3

I Were not I a little pot, and soon hot.

SHAKESPEARE, Taming of the Shrew, iv, I

Chord.
I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,

Which came from the soul of the organ,
And entered into mine.

It may be that Death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again;

It may be that only in heaven

I shall hear that grand Amen.

Chowder-kettle.

A. A. PROCTER, A Lost Chord, st. 2, 6, 7
You should have been with us that day
round the chowder-kettle.
WALT WHITMAN, Song of Myself, 10

Christ.- Ring in the Christ that is to be.

TENNYSON, In Memoriam, cvi, st. 8

YOUNG, Night Thoughts, IV, line 789

Christian.- A Christian is the highest style of man.'

Christians.- Christians have burned each other, quite per

suaded

That all the apostles would have done as they did.

BYRON, Don Juan, Canto i, st. 83

O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others!

Christmas.

SHAKESPEARE, Merchant of Venice, i, 3

My song I troll out, for Christmas stout,
The hearty, the true, and the bold;

A bumper I drain, and with might and main

Give three cheers for this Christmas old!

DICKENS, Pickwick Papers, xxviii, A Christmas Carol

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the
house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

C. C. MOORE, A Visit from St. Nicholas

God rest ye merry, gentlemen; let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas Day.
DINAH M. MULOCK, A Christmas Carol, st. 1

1A Christian is God Almighty's gentleman.-J. C. HARE, Guesses at Truth His tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen.

DRYDEN, Absalom and Achitophel, i, line 645

The time draws near the birth of Christ:
The moon is hid, the night is still;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.

Four voices of four hamlets round,

From far and near, on mead and moor,
Swell out and fail, as if a door
Were shut between me and the sound:

Each voice four changes on the wind,
That now dilate and now decrease,
Peace and good will, good will and peace,
Peace and good will, to all mankind."

TENNYSON, In Memoriam, xxviii, st. 1-3

Again at Christmas did we weave

The holly round the Christmas hearth.

TENNYSON, In Memoriam, lxxviii, st. I

At Christmas play and make good cheere,
For Christmas comes but once a yeere.

Church.

TUSSER, Five Hundred Points of Good
Husbandry: The Farmer's Daily Diet, st. 6

That spiritual pinder,

Who looks on erring souls as straying pigs,
That must be lashed by law, wherever found,
And driven to church as to the parish pound.

HOOD, Ode to Rae Wilson, Esquire, st. II

A man may cry Church! Church! at ev'ry word,
With no more piety than other people ·

A daw's not reckoned a religious bird
Because it keeps a-cawing from a steeple.
The Temple is a good, a holy place,
But quacking only gives it an ill savour;
While saintly mountebanks the porch disgrace,
And bring religion's self into disfavour!

1 Tall spire, from which the sound of cheerful bells Just undulates upon the listening ear.

Ibid., st. 17

COWPER, The Task: The Sofa, lines 174, 175

How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear

In cadence sweet! now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!

COWPER, The Task: Winter Walk at Noon, lines 6-10

Dear bells! how sweet the sounds of village bells
When on the undulating air they swim!
Now loud as welcomes! faint, now, as farewells!
And trembling all about the breezy dells

As fluttered by the wings of Cherubim.

HOOD, Ode to Rae Wilson, Esquire, st. 16

Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame,
Will never mark the marble with his name.

POPE, Moral Essays, Epistle iii, lines 285, 286

An I have not forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse.

SHAKESPEARE, King Henry IV, Part I, iii, 3

Till holy Church incorporate two in one.

SHAKESPEARE, Romeo and Juliet, ii, 6

Cider. The piercing cider for the thirsty tongue.

THOMSON, The Seasons, Autumn, line 643

Cigar. A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.' KIPLING, The Betrothed, st. 25

Cigar-box. Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,
For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are
out.
KIPLING, The Betrothed, st. I

A stone is flung into some sleeping tarn
The circle widens till it lip the marge.2

TENNYSON, Pelleas and Etarre, lines 88-90

Throw on water now a stoon,
Wel wost thou, hit wol make anoon
A litel roundel as a cercle,
Paraventure brood as a covercle;

And right anoon thou shalt see weel,

That wheel wol cause another wheel,

And that the thridde, and so forth, brother,

Every cercle causing other,

Wyder than himselve was;

And thus fro roundel to compas,

Ech aboute other goinge,
Caused of otheres steringe,
And multiplying ever-mo,
Til that hit be so fer y-go

That hit at bothe brinkes be.

HOOD, The Cigar, st. 14

CHAUCER, The House of Fame, II, lines 280-295

As the small pebble stirs the peaceful lake;
The centre moved, a circle straight succeeds,
Another still, and still another spreads.

POPE, Essay on Man, Epistle iv, lines 364-366

Glory is like a circle in the water,
Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself
Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought.

SHAKESPEARE, King Henry VI, Part I, i, 2