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Mie love ys dedde,
Gon to hys death-bedde,
Al under the wyllowe tree.
Waterre wytches, crownede wythe reytes,
Bere mee to yer leathalle tyde.
I die; I comme; mie true lo...
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Thomas Chatterton (1752-1770), British poet. Aella; a Tragycal Enterlude (l. 54-60). . .
Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur ...
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Liste! now the thunder's rattling clymmynge sound
Cheves slowlie on, and then embollen clangs,
Shakes the hie spyre, and losst, dispended, drown'd,
Still on the gallard eare of terroure...
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Thomas Chatterton (1752-1770), British poet. An Excelente Balade of Charitie (l. 36-42). . .
The Oxford Anthology of English Poetry. Vol. I: Spens...
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It is my PRIDE, my damn'd, native, unconquerable Pride, that plunges me into Distraction. You must know that 19-20th of my Composition is Pride. I must either live a Slave, a Servant; to have no Will ...
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Thomas Chatterton (1752-1770), British poet. Letter, April 1770. Quoted in John Cranstoun Nevill, Thomas Chatterton (1948).
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''There is a time for all things—Except Marriage my dear.''
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Thomas Chatterton (1752-1770), British poet. Reply, April 9, 1770, to a note from an admirer who bids him be patient, "for there is a time for all thi...
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An Excelente Balade of Charitie: As
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In Virgynë the sweltrie sun gan sheene,
And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie;
The apple rodded from its palie greene,
And the mole peare did bende the leafy spraie;
The peede chelandri sunge the livelong daie;
'Twas nowe the pride, the manhode of the yeare,
And eke the grounde was dighte in its moste defte aumere.
The sun was glemeing in the midde of daie,
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Poets
