Edward FitzGerald was an English poet and writer, best known as the poet of the first and most famous English translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.
Fitzgerald was born near Woodbridge, Suffolk. He was one of eight children and his parents owned a number of estates in England and Ireland. He was educated at the King Edward VI Grammar School and Trinity College, Cambridge.
He spent most of his life in Suffolk where he lived the life of a country gentleman rarely travelling, except to London. He lived for sixteen years on his family estate at Boulge and spent the remainder of his life in Woodbridge.
In 1850 he married the daughter of the ... more »
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Edward Fitzgerald Poems
The Dream Called Life
From the Spanish of Pedro Calderon de la Barca A dream it was in which I found myself.
On Anne Allen
The wind blew keenly from the Western sea, And drove the dead leaves slanting from the tree-- Vanity of vanities, the Preacher saith--
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
I AWAKE! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Meadows In Spring
'Tis a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing:
From The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, I: 1-...
1 Wake! For the Sun, who scattered into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
TIS a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing:
From Omar Khayyam
I A BOOK of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Bird Parliament (translation of)
Once on a time from all the Circles seven Between the steadfast Earth and rolling Heaven The Birds, of all Note, Plumage, and Degree,
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Dream Called Life
From the Spanish of Pedro Calderon de la Barca
A dream it was in which I found myself.
And you that hail me now, then hailed me king,
In a brave palace that was all my own,
Within, and all without it, mine; until,
Drunk with excess of majesty and pride,
Methought I towered so big and swelled so wide
That of myself I burst the glittering bubble
Which my ambition had about me blown,
And all again was darkness. Such a dream
As this, in which I may be walking now,
Dispensing solemn justice to you shadows,
Who make believe to listen; but anon