Samuel Laman Blanchard

Samuel Laman Blanchard Poems

Pleasures lie thickest, where no pleasures seem;
There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground
But holds some joy, of silence or of sound,
...

Pale pilgrim of the heavens, that late didst glide
With sunbeam staff the violet vales along,
Where fountains of fresh dew gushed up in song,
...

My heart will break - I'm sure it will:
My lover, yes, my favorite - he
...

How hard, when those who do not wish
To lend, that's lose, their books,
Are snared by anglers; folks that fish
With literary hooks;
...

Is there, when the winds are singing
In the happy summer time, -
When the raptured air is ringing
With Earth's music heavenward springing
...

A liberal worldling, gay philosopher,
Art thou that liftst thy young and yellow head
Over the dim burial of the scarce-cold dead,
...

Samuel Laman Blanchard Biography

Samuel Laman Blanchard (15 May 1803 – 15 February 1845) was a British author and journalist. The son of a painter and glazier, he was born at Great Yarmouth. He was educated at St Olave's school, Southwark, and then became clerk to a proctor in Doctors' Commons. At an early age he developed an interest in literature, contributing dramatic sketches to a paper called Drama. For a short time he belonged to a travelling theatre company, but then became a proof-reader in London, and wrote for the Monthly Magazine. In 1827 he was made secretary of the Zoological Society, a post he held for three years. In 1828 he published Lyric Offerings, dedicated to Charles Lamb. He had a very varied journalistic experience, editing in succession the Monthly Magazine, the True Sun, the Constitutional, the Court Journal, the Courier, and George Cruikshank's Omnibus; and from 1841 till his death he was connected with the Examiner. In 1846 Edward Bulwer-Lytton collected some of his prose-essays under the title Sketches of Life, to which a memoir of the author was prefixed. His verse was collected in 1876 by Blanchard Jerrold. His eldest son was Sidney Laman Blanchard, the author of Yesterday and To-day in India. Over-work broke down his strength and, after his wife died in December 1844 of a painful illness, Blanchard entered a depression from which he never recovered. He committed suicide with a razor, and was buried at West Norwood Cemetery)

The Best Poem Of Samuel Laman Blanchard

Hidden Joys

Pleasures lie thickest, where no pleasures seem;
There's not a leaf that falls upon the ground
But holds some joy, of silence or of sound,
Some sprite begotten of a summer dream.

The very meanest things are made supreme
With innate ecstasy. No grain of sand
But moves a bright and million-peopled land,
And hath its Eden, and its Eves I deem.

For Love, though blind himself, a curious eye
Hath lent me, to behold the hearts of things,
And touched mine ear with power. Thus far or nigh,
Minute or mighty, fixed, or free with wings,
Delight from many a nameess covert sly
Peeps sparkling, and in tones familiar sings.

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