Charles Lamb

(10 February 1775 – 27 December 1834 / London)

Charles Lamb Poems

1. Prince Dorus 4/10/2010
2. The Young Letter Writer 4/10/2010
3. My Birthday 4/10/2010
4. Prologue To Faulkener 4/10/2010
5. The Beasts In The Tower 4/10/2010
6. To Margaret W------ 4/10/2010
7. Which Is The Favourite? 4/10/2010
8. Time Spent In Dress 4/10/2010
9. Weeding 4/10/2010
10. What Is Fancy? 4/10/2010
11. Written In The First Leaf Of A Child's Memorandum-Book 4/10/2010
12. To Charles Lloyd: An Unexpected Visitor 4/10/2010
13. Written Soon After The Preceding Poem 4/10/2010
14. Lines Addressed From London, To Sara And S.T.C. At Bristol, In The Summer Of 1796 4/10/2010
15. Lines Suggested By A Sight Of Waltham Cross 4/10/2010
16. Home Delights 4/10/2010
17. To T.L.H. 4/10/2010
18. The Two Bees 4/10/2010
19. Why Not Do It, Sir, Today? 4/10/2010
20. The First Leaf Of Spring 4/10/2010
21. Incorrect Speaking 4/10/2010
22. On A Late Impiric Of Balmy Memory 4/10/2010
23. Written A Year After The Events 4/10/2010
24. Written Christmas Day 1797 4/10/2010
25. To A Young Lady, On Being Too Fond Of Music 4/10/2010
26. On Being Asked To Write In Miss Westwood's Album 4/10/2010
27. To The Poet Cowper, On His Recovery From An Indisposition 4/10/2010
28. To Charles Lloyd 4/10/2010
29. The Three Friends 4/10/2010
30. The Rook And The Sparrows 4/10/2010
31. The Sparrow And The Hen 4/10/2010
32. The Mimic Harlequin 4/10/2010
33. Motes In The Sunbeams 4/10/2010
34. Queen Oriana's Dream 4/10/2010
35. Hypochondriacus 4/10/2010
36. Thoughtless Cruelty 4/10/2010
37. The Magpie's Nest, Or A Lesson Of Docility 4/10/2010
38. The Brother's Reply 4/10/2010
39. Nurse Green 4/10/2010
40. The Unbeloved 4/10/2010

Comments about Charles Lamb

  • irshad (5/14/2018 4:49:00 AM)

    what is message of this poem

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Best Poem of Charles Lamb


In a stage-coach, where late I chanced to be,
A little quiet girl my notice caught;
I saw she looked at nothing by the way,
Her mind seemed busy on some childish thought.

I with an old man's courtesy addressed
The child, and called her pretty dark-eyed maid,
And bid her turn those pretty eyes and see
The wide extended prospect. 'Sir,' she said,

'I cannot see the prospect, I am blind.'
Never did tongue of child utter a sound
So mournful, as her words fell on my ear.
Her mother then related how she found

Her child was sightless. On a ...

Read the full of Blindness

As When A Child...

As when a child on some long winter's night
Affrighted clinging to its Grandam's knees
With eager wond'ring and perturbed delight
Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees
Muttered to wretch by necromantic spell;
Or of those hags, who at the witching time
Of murky midnight ride the air sublime,
And mingle foul embrace with fiends of Hell:
Cold Horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear

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