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John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Page 691

Oliver Wendell Holmes. (1809–1894) (continued)
    Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day?
          The Deacon’s Masterpiece.
    A general flavor of mild decay.
          The Deacon’s Masterpiece.
    It went to pieces all at once—
All at once and nothing first,
Just as bubbles do when they burst.
          The Deacon’s Masterpiece.
    The brightest blades grow dim with rust,
  The fairest meadow white with snow.
          Chanson without Music.
    When lawyers take what they would give
And doctors give what they would take.
          Latterday Warnings.
    Fame is the scentless sunflower, with gaudy crown of gold;
But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold.
          No Time like the old Time.
    God reigneth. All is well. 1 
          Hymn at the Funeral Services of Charles Sumner.
      One unquestioned text we read,
All doubt beyond, all fear above;
Nor crackling pile nor cursing creed 2 
  Can burn or blot it—God is love.
          What we all think.
    If we are only as the potter’s clay
Made to be fashioned as the artist wills,
And broken into shards if we offend
The eye of Him who made us, it is well.
      A thought is often original, though you have uttered it a hundred times.
          The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. i.
Note 1.
Browning: Pippa Passes. God’s in his heaven—
  All’s right with the world. [back]
Note 2.
Browning: Paracelsus. God! Thou art love! I build my faith on that. [back]