Comes at the last, and with a little pin

Bores through his castle wall—and farewell king!

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,

Or close the wall up with our English dead!

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man

As modest stillness and humility;

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,

Then imitate the action of the tiger:

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Henry V. Act iii. Sc. 1.

Like feather bed betwixt a wall

And heavy brunt of cannon ball.

Samuel Butler (1600-1680): Hudibras. Part i. Canto ii. Line 872.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise,

This fortress built by Nature for herself

Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world,

This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall

Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,—

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): King Richard II. Act ii. Sc. 1.

The weakest goes to the wall.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Romeo and Juliet. Act i. Sc. 1.

The whitewash'd wall, the nicely sanded floor,

The varnish'd clock that click'd behind the door;

The chest, contriv'd a double debt to pay,—

A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Deserted Village. Line 227.