Thomas Chatterton Poems
- February Begin, my muse, the imitative lay, Aonian doxies ...
- A New Song Ah blame me not, Catcott, if from the right way ...
- A Hymn For Christmas Day Almighty Framer of the Skies! O ...
- Ælla, A Tragical Interlude (Ex... FYRSTE MYNSTRELLE... ...
- Eclogues Eclogue the First. Whanne Englonde, smeethynge ...
- Apostate Will In days of old, when Wesley's power Gathered ...
- Chatterton's Will Burgum, I thank thee, thou hast let me see ...
Thomas Chatterton was born in Bristol on November 20, 1752 and is generally regarded as the first Romantic poet in English.
Throughout his early childhood Chatterton showed no signs of talent. He was regarded as little better than an idiot until he was about six and a half years old, because he would learn nothing, refused to play with other children, and spent most of his time brooding in silence. He was expelled from his first school as a dullard.
It appears that he underwent a considerable transformation in his seventh year. The story goes that one day he found his mother tearing up for waste paper some old music folios which had been brought home from the church ... more »
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Quotationsmore quotations »
''There is a time for all thingsExcept Marriage my dear.''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...
Begin, my muse, the imitative lay,
Aonian doxies sound the thrumming string;
Attempt no number of the plaintive Gay,
Let me like midnight cats, or Collins sing.
If in the trammels of the doleful line
The bounding hail, or drilling rain descend;
Come, brooding Melancholy, pow'r divine,
And ev'ry unform'd mass of words amend.
Now the rough goat withdraws his curling horns,
And the cold wat'rer twirls his circling mop:
Swift sudden anguish darts thro' alt'ring corns,
And the spruce mercer trembles in his shop.
Now infant authors, madd'ning ...