26 Quotes by Charles Stuart Calverley

Precious to me – it is the Dinner Bell. Oh blessed Bell! Thou bringest beef and beer...

Oh Beer! Oh Hodgson, Guinness, Allsop, Bass! Names that should be on every infant’s tongue! Shall days and months and years and centuries pass, And still your merits be unrecked, unsung?

The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where, That wholly consisted of lines like these.

But ah! disasters have their use; And life might e’en be too sunshiny...

Canst thou love me, lady? I’ve not learn’d to woo: Thou art on the shady Side of sixty too. Still I love thee dearly! Thou hast lands and pelf: But I love thee merely Merely for thyself.

Should ever anything be missed – milk, coals, umbrellas, brandy – the cat’s pitched into with a boot or anything that’s handy.

I’ve read in many a novel, that unless they’ve souls that grovel – Folks prefer in fact a hovel to your dreary marble halls.

Still my soul is in its boyhood; Nor of year or changes recks. Though my scalp is almost hairless, And my figure grows convex.