Thomas Chatterton

(1752 - 1770 / Bristol / England)

poet Thomas Chatterton
#163 on top 500 poets

Comments about Thomas Chatterton

  • Den Fede Yoghurt! (4/24/2019 1:32:00 AM)

    spis yoghurt frantsbrød!

    1 person liked.
    		2 person did not like.
  • Tanveer Bodla (1/21/2019 4:03:00 AM)

    First time i got his poetry and i am ashamed of it that why i am always so late ....

    1 person liked.
    		2 person did not like.
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    2 person liked.
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  • kol khara (11/4/2018 7:59:00 PM)

    you have been visited by a coward of islam my name is Abubakr I am frewid

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
  • yazid (10/28/2018 8:58:00 PM)

    i have to be honest im a homospacial

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
  • abubakr (10/28/2018 8:54:00 PM)

    i was not the first khalifa it was imam ali and yazid is gay

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
  • ksahdui (10/25/2018 7:00:00 PM)

    lahilahailallah didshud d asd s da d asd sd sa dsa dasdsadsdsad asd s das d as d da sd a d

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
  • ???? ????? (6/8/2018 5:48:00 AM)

    U HAVE BEEN VISITED BY A BRAVE WARRIOR OF ISLAM

    [/﹋\
    [(҂`_´)
    [, ︻╦╤─ ҉ - - - - - - Allahu Akbar الله اكبر
    [/﹋\

    U MUST HELP HIM ON HIS QUEST TO DISPOSE INFIDELS, COPY N PASTE THIS TO 10 OTHER PROFILES……………… OR YOUR HOUSE WILL BE BOMBED AT MIDNIGHT…………………..

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
  • ???? ????? (6/8/2018 5:47:00 AM)

    Сука БлятьСука БлятьСука БлятьСука БлятьСука Блять

    2 person liked.
    		0 person did not like.
  • Lortt (6/5/2018 1:46:00 AM)

    Sut pik fra mit røvhul

    2 person liked.
    		1 person did not like.
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Best Poem of Thomas Chatterton

February

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 ...

Read the full of February

Heccar And Gaira

Where the rough Caigra rolls the surgy wave,
Urging his thunders thro' the echoing cave;
Where the sharp rocks, in distant horror seen,
Drive the white currents thro' the spreading green;
Where the loud tiger, pawing in his rage,
Bids the black archers of the wilds engage;
Stretch'd on the sand, two panting warriors lay,
In all the burning torments of the day;
Their bloody jav'lins reeked one living steam,

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