Author: Hilaire Belloc

Cites

• NULL (1)
  • IN: The Bad Child's Book of Beasts (1896) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: Child! do not throw this book about; Refrain from the unholy pleasure Of cutting all the pictures out! Preserve it as your chiefest treasure. Child, have you never heard it said That you are heir to all the ages? Why, then, your hands were never made To tear these beautiful thick pages! Your little hands were made to take The better things and leave the worse ones. They also may be used to shake The Massive Paws of Elder Persons. And when your prayers complete the day, Darling, your little tiny hands Were also made, I think, to pray For men that lose their fairylands.
    FROM: NULL, (None), Poem, NULL
• Hilaire Belloc (1)
  • IN: The Four Men: a Farrago (1911) Fiction, French
    EPIGRAPH: The Southern Hills and the South Sea They blow such gladness into me, That when I get to Burton Sands And smell the smell of the Home Lands, My heart is all renewed and fills With the Southern Sea and the South Hills.
    FROM: The Southern Hills and the South Sea, (1911), Fictional, NULL

Cited by

• Hilaire Belloc (1)
  • IN: The Four Men: a Farrago (1911) Fiction, French
    EPIGRAPH: The Southern Hills and the South Sea They blow such gladness into me, That when I get to Burton Sands And smell the smell of the Home Lands, My heart is all renewed and fills With the Southern Sea and the South Hills.
    FROM: The Southern Hills and the South Sea, (1911), Fictional, NULL