Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch was born on November 21, 1863 in Cornwall. He was a British writer, who published under the pen name of "Q". Quiller-Couch received a degree from Trinity College, Oxford and later became a lecturer there.
While he was at Oxford he published Dead Man’s Rock (1887), and followed this with the 1888 publication of Troy Town and in 1889, The Splendid Spur. His later novels included The Blue Pavilions (1891), The Ship of Stars (1899), Hetty Wesley (1903), The Adventures of Harry Revel (1903), Fort Amity (1904), The Shining Ferry (1905), and Sir John Constantine (1906).
In 1898 he completed Robert Louis Stevenson’s unfinished novel,... more »
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Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch Poems
O Mary Leslie, blithe and shrill The bugles blew for Spain: And you below the Castle Hill Stood in the crowd your lane.
To commemorate the virtue of Homoeopathy in restoring one apparently drowned. Love, that in a tear was drown'd,
Know you her secret none can utter? Hers of the Book, the tripled Crown? Still on the spire the pigeons flutter,
Down in the street the last late hansoms go Still westward, but with backward eyes of red The harlot shuffles to her lonely bed;
Of Three Children
You and I and Burd so blithe— Burd so blithe, and you, and I—
Friend, old friend in the Manse by the fireside sitting, Hour by hour while the grey ash drips from the log;
Chant Royal Of High Virtue
Who lives in suit of armour pent And hides himself behind a wall, For him is not the great event, The garland nor the Capitol.
After W. M. P. Dear Kitty, At length the term's ending; I 'm in for my Schools in a week;
I. St. Giles's street is fair and wide, St. Giles's street is long;
Measure For Measure
Wake! for the closed Pavilion doors have kept Their silence while the white-eyed Kaffir slept,
Sapphics. Down the green hill-side fro' the castle window Lady Jane spied Bill Amaranth a-workin';
'Tis pretty to be in Ballinderry, 'Tis pretty to be in Ballindoon, But 'tis prettier far in County Kerry Coortin' under the bran' new moon,
The White Moth
IF a leaf rustled, she would start: And yet she died, a year ago. How had so frail a thing the heart To journey where she trembled so?
Anecdote For Fathers
By the late W. W. (of H.M. Inland Revenue Service). And is it so? Can Folly stalk And aim her unrespecting darts
Comments about Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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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)
O Mary Leslie, blithe and shrill
The bugles blew for Spain:
And you below the Castle Hill
Stood in the crowd your lane.
Then hearts were wild to watch us pass,
Yet laith to let us go!
While mine said, 'Fare-ye-well, my lass!'
And yours, 'God keep my Jo!'
Here by the bivouac fire, above
These fields of savage play,
I'll lift my love to meet thy love
Twa thousand miles away,
Where yonder, yonder by the stars,
Nightlong there rins a burn,
And maids with lovers at the wars
May list their wraiths' return.
More careless yet my spirit ...