Tis but a part we see, and not a whole. – Alexander Pope
Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and offrings, and a thankful strain. – Alexander Pope
The stern hand of fate has scourged us to an elevation where we can see the great everlasting things that matter for a nation; the great peaks of honour we had forgotten – duty and patriotism, clad in glittering white; the great pinnacle of sacrifice pointing like a rugged finger to heaven. – David Lloyd George