Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Biography of 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, St Ives. While in Oxford he was known as a writer of excellent verse. His poetical work is contained in Poems and Ballads (1896). In 1895 he published an anthology from the 16th and 17th-century English lyrists, The Golden Pomp, followed in 1900 by an equally successful Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250—1900 (1900).
He was knighted in 1910, also that year publishing The Sleeping Beauty and other Fairy Tales from the Old French. He received a professorship of English at The University of Cambridge in 1912, which he retained for the rest of his life, later becoming Chair of English.
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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.
'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,
Measure For Measure
Wake! for the closed Pavilion doors have kept Their silence while the white-eyed Kaffir slept,
To commemorate the virtue of Homoeopathy in restoring one apparently drowned. Love, that in a tear was drown'd,
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
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;
Sapphics. Down the green hill-side fro' the castle window Lady Jane spied Bill Amaranth a-workin';
Know you her secret none can utter? Hers of the Book, the tripled Crown? Still on the spire the pigeons flutter,
Hush! and again the chatter of the starling Athwart the lawn! Lean your head close and closer. O my darling!--
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?
And do they turn and turn in fright,
Those little feet, in so much night?
The light above the poet’s head
Streamed on the page and on the cloth,