Who is Henry Cust

Henry John Cockayne-Cust, JP, DL (10 October 1861 – 2 March 1917) was an English politician and editor who served as a Member of Parliament (MP) for the Unionist Party.

Origins

He was a son of Henry Cockayne-Cust, a younger grandson of Brownlow Cust, 1st Baron Brownlow, of Belton House near Grantham in Lincolnshire, by his wife Sara Jane Cookson.

Career

He was educated at Eton College, where he was captain of the Oppidans, and at Trinity College, Cambridge, where he was elected to the Apostles and from which he graduated with second-class honours in the Classical Tripos with a Bachelor of Arts. Initially pursuing a legal career, Cust was admitted to the Inner Temple in 1888 but was not called to the bar. Instead he decided to enter Parlia...
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Henry Cust Poems

  • Non Nobis
    Not unto us, O Lord,
    Not unto us the rapture of the day,
    The peace of night, or love's divine surprise,
    High heart, high speech, high deeds 'mid honouring eyes;...
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Top 10 most used topics by Henry Cust

Night 1 Divine 1 High 1 Speech 1 Wealth 1 Earth 1 Rapture 1 I Love You 1 Sky 1 Peace 1


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Comments about Henry Cust

Nikke_en: 【fix progress update】 here's an update on the item disappearance and collection issues during nov 4th and 5th. we have reissued the items to commanders who faced the above issues on nov 5th. if any issues persist, please contact our cust serv:
Thepme: brady showcasing the cust method of how he plans to get a tackle on derrick henry
Thepme: cust told him he could tackle derrick henry the moment before the snapped the pic
Thepme: since they get tired at the same rate, im excited to see cust go through henry’s workout and show us
Paddedroommemes: cust vs henry.
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Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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