George Canning ( 10 of 10 )
Indecision and delays are the parents of failure.
Indecision and delays are the parents of failure.
I called the New World into existence to redress the balance of
the Old.
I called the New World into existence to redress the balance of
the Old.
Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe;
Bold I can meet--perhaps may turn his blow;
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Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe;
Bold I can meet--perhaps may turn his blow;
But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can send,
Save, save, oh! save me from the candid friend.
Away with the cant of "Measures not men!"--the idle supposition
that it is the harness and not the horses read more
Away with the cant of "Measures not men!"--the idle supposition
that it is the harness and not the horses that draw the chariot
along. No Sir, if the comparison must be made, if the
distinction must be taken, men are everything, measures
comparatively nothing.
In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch
Is offering too little and asking too much.
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In matters of commerce the fault of the Dutch
Is offering too little and asking too much.
The French are with equal advantage content--
So we clap on Dutch bottoms just 20 per cent.
If hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep,
The sky if no longer dark tempests deform;
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If hush'd the loud whirlwind that ruffled the deep,
The sky if no longer dark tempests deform;
When our perils are past shall our gratitude sleep?
No! Here's to the pilot that weather'd the storm!
Whene'er with haggard eyes I view
This dungeon that I'm rotting in,
I think of those companions read more
Whene'er with haggard eyes I view
This dungeon that I'm rotting in,
I think of those companions true
Who studied with me at the U-
Niversity of Gottingen.
- George Canning, Song--Of One Eleven Years in Prison,
And finds with keen, discriminating sight,
Black's not so black--nor white so very white.
And finds with keen, discriminating sight,
Black's not so black--nor white so very white.
Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order;
Bleak read more
Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going?
Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order;
Bleak blows the blast--your hat has got a hole in it.
So have your breeches.
Here's to the pilot that weathered the storm.
Here's to the pilot that weathered the storm.