Thomas Chatterton

(1752 - 1770 / Bristol / England)

Thomas Chatterton Poems

1. Heccar And Gaira 1/1/2004
2. Narva And Mored 1/1/2004
3. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude - Act Ii 4/1/2010
4. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude - Act Iv 4/1/2010
5. Eclogue The First 4/1/2010
6. Eclogue The Second 4/1/2010
7. Eclogue The Third 4/1/2010
8. Battle Of Hastings - Ii 4/1/2010
9. Epitaph On Robert Canynge 4/1/2010
10. The Accounte Of W. Canynges Feast 4/1/2010
11. Onn John A Dalbenie 4/1/2010
12. Songe To Aella, Lorde Of The Castel Of Brystowe Ynne Daies Of Yore 4/1/2010
13. The Churchwarden And The Apparition: A Fable 4/1/2010
14. On The Same (Oure Ladies Chyrche) 4/1/2010
15. The Methodist 1/1/2004
16. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude - Act I 4/1/2010
17. The Death Of Nicou 1/1/2004
18. On The Last Epiphany (Or Christ Coming To Judgment) 4/1/2010
19. Bristowe Tragedie: Or The Dethe Of Syr Charles Badwin 4/1/2010
20. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude - Act Iii 4/1/2010
21. The Tournament. An Interlude 4/1/2010
22. Onn Oure Ladies Chyrche 4/1/2010
23. The Gouler's Requiem 4/1/2010
24. The Romance Of The Knight 4/1/2010
25. The Storie Of William Canynge 4/1/2010
26. Battle Of Hastings - I 4/1/2010
27. Colin Instructed 1/1/2004
28. An Excelente Balade Of Charitie: As Wroten Bie The Gode Pri 1/1/2004
29. On Happienesse 4/1/2010
30. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude - Entroductionne 4/1/2010
31. Elegy On The Death Of Mr. Phillips 4/1/2010
32. Elinoure And Juga 4/1/2010
33. Englysh Metamorphosis 4/1/2010
34. Sly Dick 1/1/2004
35. Goddwyn; A Tragedie 4/1/2010
36. Picture Of Autumn 4/1/2010
37. Chatterton's Will 1/1/2004
38. Song From Aella 1/4/2003
39. Eclogues 1/1/2004
40. Ælla, A Tragical Interlude (Excerpt) 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Thomas Chatterton

A New Song

Ah blame me not, Catcott, if from the right way
My notions and actions run far.
How can my ideas do other but stray,
Deprived of their ruling North-Star?

A blame me not, Broderip, if mounted aloft,
I chatter and spoil the dull air;
How can I imagine thy foppery soft,
When discord's the voice of my fair?

If Turner remitted my bluster and rhymes,
If Hardind was girlish and cold,
If never an ogle was got from Miss Grimes,
If Flavia was blasted and old;

I chose without liking, and left without pain,
Nor welcomed the frown with a sigh;...

Read the full of A New Song

Eclogues

Eclogue the First.

Whanne Englonde, smeethynge from her lethal wounde,
From her galled necke dyd twytte the chayne awaie,
Kennynge her legeful sonnes falle all arounde,
(Myghtie theie fell, 'twas Honoure ledde the fraie,)
Thanne inne a dale, bie eve's dark surcote graie,
Twayne lonelie shepsterres dyd abrodden flie,
(The rostlyng liff doth theyr whytte hartes affraie,)

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