Martin Farquhar Tupper
Martin Farquhar Tupper (July 17, 1810 in London - November 1889 in Albury, Surrey) was an English writer, and poet, and the author of Proverbial Philosophy.
He was the eldest son of Dr. Martin Tupper (1780 - 1844), a medical man highly esteemed in his day who came from an old Guernsey family, by his wife Ellin Devis Marris (d. 1847), only child of Robert Marris (1749 - 1827), a ... more »
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Martin Farquhar Tupper Poems
Laura (From Petrarch)
My Laura, my love, I behold in thine eyes Twin daystars that Mercy has given, To teach me on earth to be happy and wise
In Praise Of French Cuisine
'Now Muse, you must versify your very best, To sing how they ransack the East and the West, To tell how they plunder the North and the South
A Dozen Ballads About White Slavery. V. ...
'The Song of the Shirt,'- O heart-stirring hymn How sternly and terribly true The portrait of misery, ghastly and grim,
Mine own stout heart! You and I must never part, But bravely get on together,-- Through calm and strife,
Guernsey! to me and in my partial eyes Thou art a holy and enchanted isle, Where I would linger long, and muse the while
A Dozen Ballads About White Slavery. Son...
They tell of horrors on another shore, Injustice, thraldom, chains and goads and whips, And human-nature smothered to the lips
A Maxim Of Peace
Never have regrets, brother, But for sake of sin; The treacherous heart within All too soon forgets, brother,
Dangers do but dare me, Terrors cannot scare me, God my guide, I'll bear me Manfully for ever,--
Look, like a village queen of May, the stream Dances her best before the holiday sun, And still with musical laugh goes tripping on
'A little more sleep, a little more slumber, A little more folding the hands to sleep,' For quick-footed dreams, without order or number,
The Best Robe
'Bring forth the best robe!' Was it truly I heard? And is it for me, too -- the best for the worst? O merciful Father! O wonderful word!
The Dog Of Ulysses (From Homer, Od. XVII...
Thus to each other spake they; but the hound, as he lay in his weakness, Pricked up his ears and his head,- poor Argus of patient Ulysses;
The Song Of Seventy
I am not old -- I cannot be old, Though threescore years and ten Have wasted away, like a tale that is told, The lives of other men:
A Dozen Ballads About White Slavery. III...
When, O when, shall the life of a Man Be worth a Man's while to live? When, to this old White-Slavery plan
Comments about Martin Farquhar Tupper
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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)
Laura (From Petrarch)
My Laura, my love, I behold in thine eyes
Twin daystars that Mercy has given,
To teach me on earth to be happy and wise
And guide me triumphant to heaven.
Their lessons of love thro' a lifetime have taught
My bosom the pureness of thine,
They have roused me to virtue, exalted my thought,
And nerved me for glory divine:
They have shed on my heart a delightful repose,
All else it hath barr'd from its portal,
So deeply the stream of my happiness flows,
I know that my soul is immortal.