Nail to the mast her holy flag,

Set every threadbare sail,

And give her to the god of storms,

The lightning and the gale!

Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894): Old Ironsides.

But Hudibras gave him a twitch

As quick as lightning in the breech,

Just in the place where honour's lodg'd,

As wise philosophers have judg'd;

Because a kick in that part more

Hurts honour than deep wounds before.

Samuel Butler (1600-1680): Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1065.

A weapon that comes down as still

As snowflakes fall upon the sod;

But executes a freeman's will,

As lightning does the will of God;

And from its force nor doors nor locks

Can shield you,—'t is the ballot-box.

John Pierpont (1785-1866): A Word from a Petitioner.

It must be done like lightning.

Ben Jonson (1573-1637): Every Man in his Humour. Act iv. Sc. v.

Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,

A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,

He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

William Knox (1789-1825): Mortality.

Swift as a shadow, short as any dream;

Brief as the lightning in the collied night,

That in a spleen unfolds both heaven and earth,

And ere a man hath power to say, "Behold!"

The jaws of darkness do devour it up:

So quick bright things come to confusion.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): A Midsummer Night's Dream. Act i. Sc. 1.

1 W.  When shall we three meet again

In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

2 W.  When the hurlyburly's done,

When the battle's lost and won.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act i. Sc. 1.

But Hudibras gave him a twitch

As quick as lightning in the breech,

Just in the place where honour's lodg'd,

As wise philosophers have judg'd;

Because a kick in that part more

Hurts honour than deep wounds before.

Samuel Butler (1600-1680): Hudibras. Part ii. Canto iii. Line 1065.

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say, "It lightens."

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Such souls,

Whose sudden visitations daze the world,

Vanish like lightning, but they leave behind

A voice that in the distance far away

Wakens the slumbering ages.

Sir Henry Taylor (1800-18—): Philip Van Artevelde. Part i. Act i. Sc. 7.