Top 15 C. J. Dennis Quotes

an ineffably pious person who mistakes this world for a penitentiary and himself for a warder.

Sittin' at ev'nin' in this sunset-land,
Wiv 'Er in all the World to 'old me 'and, A son, to bear me name when I am gone. ... Livin' an' lovin'—so life mooches on.

Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' to fergive The deeds an' words of some un'appy bloke
Who's missed the bus—so 'ave I come to live, An' take the 'ole mad world as 'arf a joke.

Look fer yer profits in the 'earts o' friends,
Fer 'atin' never paid no dividends.

Livin' an' lovin'; learnin' day be day; Pausin' a minute in the barmy strife
To find that 'elpin' others on the way Is gold coined fer your profit—sich is life.

Yeh live, yeh love, yeh learn; an' when yeh come To square the ledger in some thortful hour,
The everlastin' answer to the sum Must allus be, "Where's sense in gittin' sour?"

"A boy!" she sez. "An' bofe is doin' well!"
I drops into a chair, an' jist sez—"'Ell!" It was a pray'r. I feels bofe crook an' glad. ... An' that's the strength of bein' made a dad.

We done poor Muvver proud when she went out— A slap-up send-orf, trimmed wiv tears an' crape.

Farmer! That's me! Wiv this 'ere strong right 'and I've gripped the plough; and blistered jist a treat.
Doreen an' me 'as gone upon the land. Yours truly fer the burden an' the 'eat!

Love is a gamble, an' there ain't no certs.

Willy! O 'ell! 'Ere wus a flamin' pill! A moniker that alwus makes me ill.
"If it's the same to you, mum," I replies "I answer quicker to the name of Bill."

"Wot's in a name?" she sez. 'Struth, I dunno.
Billo is just as good as Romeo.

Someone has said
From the day we draw breath
Until life be sped
Two things are certain:
Taxes and death.
From the rise of the curtain,
On life's dreary round,
As hope wanes or waxes,
Man ever found
Two things are certain:
Taxes and death—
Especially taxes.

But the snobs are ever with us, snobs of art, of place, of pelf.
And, reading this, I rather think I might be one myself.

Of all the poetry I've read
I’ve never yet seen one (he said)
That couldn’t be, far as it goes,
Much better written out in prose.
It’s what they eat, I often think;
Or, yet more likely, what they drink.
Aw, poets! All the tribe, by heck,
Give me a swift pain in the neck.