I have long been fascinated by children who wrote stellar poems, the Mozarts of poetry. My favorites include Thomas Chatterton, Wordsworth's "marvellous boy," the Bronte sisters, Rimbaud...
Thanks, Mike, for bringing Thomas Chatterton to my attention. I wasn't aware of his poems before now, though he was as you say 'a remarkable talent' for one so young.
I did mention Digby Dolben in the preamble along with other prodigies, and I mentioned him in the "Age Line" at the end, with my favorite poem of his. When time permits, I will do a special page on him by himself, publishing all the poems on THT.
Awesome history Sir, thank you so much, where else could I find what you just published without studying for decades as you have so obviously accomplished, I’m star struck.
I feel these words and felt them as a little girl around seven when I attended parochial school.
The Methodist
“Says Tom to Jack ‘tis very odd,
These representatives of God,
In color, way of life and evil
Should be so very like the devil.”
I survived and thrived, and most of all forgave their sorry and tormented selves, and I am blessed to say that, and know it. All blessings to you and yours, Geraldine
I have probably written more heretical poems than anyone, and I like and admire those four lines. This was my first poem, written sometime between age 11 and 13:
Thanks, Mike, for bringing Thomas Chatterton to my attention. I wasn't aware of his poems before now, though he was as you say 'a remarkable talent' for one so young.
Yes, a remarkable talent and a hero to the "big six" Romantics.
Did you remember to include Digby?
Beyond
Beyond the calumny and wrong,
Beyond the clamour and the throng,
Beyond the praise and triumph-song
He passed.
Beyond the scandal and the doubt,
The fear within, the fight without,
The turmoil and the battle-shout
He sleeps.
The world for him was not so sweet
That he should grieve to stay his feet
Where youth and manhood's highways meet,
And die.
For every child a mother's breast,
For every bird a guarded nest;
For him alone was found no rest
But this.
Beneath the flight of happy hours,
Beneath the withering of the flowers
In folds of peace more sure than ours
He lies.
A night no glaring dawn shall break,
A sleep no cruel voice shall wake,
An heritage that none can take
Are his.
I did mention Digby Dolben in the preamble along with other prodigies, and I mentioned him in the "Age Line" at the end, with my favorite poem of his. When time permits, I will do a special page on him by himself, publishing all the poems on THT.
Found it. It's been said Hopkins loved him.
Yes, it sounds like Hopkins was quite taken with Dolben.
Yes Sir Michael, truth speaks and you have said it all, and I know it to be true. Thank you, G
Thanks as always for taking time to read and comment.
Awesome history Sir, thank you so much, where else could I find what you just published without studying for decades as you have so obviously accomplished, I’m star struck.
I feel these words and felt them as a little girl around seven when I attended parochial school.
The Methodist
“Says Tom to Jack ‘tis very odd,
These representatives of God,
In color, way of life and evil
Should be so very like the devil.”
I survived and thrived, and most of all forgave their sorry and tormented selves, and I am blessed to say that, and know it. All blessings to you and yours, Geraldine
I have probably written more heretical poems than anyone, and I like and admire those four lines. This was my first poem, written sometime between age 11 and 13:
If god
is good
half the Bible
is libel.
--Michael R. Burch