Thomas Chatterton Quotes
- How shall we celebrate the day,
When God appeared in mortal clay,
The mark of worldly scorn;
When the Archangel’s heavenly Lays,
Attempted the Redeemer’s Praise,
And hail’d Salvation’s Morn! - View Quote Details on How shall we celebrate the day,
When God appeared in mortal… - Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perished in his pride. - View Quote Details on Chatterton, the marvellous boy,
The sleepless soul that perished in his… - 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 hanges;
The windes are up; the lofty elmen swanges;
Again the levynne and the thunder poures,
And the full cloudes are braste attenes in stonen showers. - View Quote Details on Liste! now the thunder’s rattling clymmynge sound
Cheves slowlie on, and… - The finest of the Rowley poems – Eclogues, Ballad of Charity &c rank absolutely with the finest poetry in the language…He was an absolute and untarnished hero. - View Quote Details on The finest of the Rowley poems – Eclogues, Ballad of…
- This is the most extraordinary young man that has encountered my knowledge. It is wonderful how the whelp has written such things. - View Quote Details on This is the most extraordinary young man that has encountered…
- He was an instance that a complete genius and a complete rogue can be formed before a man is of age. - View Quote Details on He was an instance that a complete genius and a…
- 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 love waytes.
Thos the damselle spake, and dyed. - View Quote Details on Mie love ys dedde,
Gon to hys death-bedde,
Al under the wyllowe… - O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive!
Sure thou would’st spread the canvass to the gale,
And love, with us, the tinkling team to drive
O’er peaceful Freedom’s undivided dale;
And we, at sober eve, would round thee throng,
Hanging, enraptur’d, on thy stately song!
And greet with smiles the young-eyed Poesy
All deftly mask’d, as hoar Antiquity. - View Quote Details on O Chatterton! that thou wert yet alive!
Sure thou would’st spread… - I cannot find in Chatterton’s works any thing so extraordinary as the age at which they were written. They have a facility, vigour, and knowledge, which were prodigious in a boy of sixteen, but which would not have been so in a boy of twenty. He did not show extraordinary powers of genius, but extraordinary precocity. Nor do I believe he would have written better, had he lived. He knew this himself, or he would have lived. Great geniuses, like great kings, have too much to think of to kill themselves. - View Quote Details on I cannot find in Chatterton’s works any thing so extraordinary…
- Almighty Framer of the Skies!
O let our pure devotion rise,
Like Incense in thy Sight!
Wrapt in impenetrable Shade,
The Texture of our Souls were made,
Till thy Command gave Light. - View Quote Details on Almighty Framer of the Skies!
O let our pure devotion rise,
Like… - Happy (if mortals can be) is the man,
Who, not by priest but Reason, rules his span:
Reason, to its possessor a sure guide,
Reason, a thorn in Revelation’s side. - View Quote Details on Happy (if mortals can be) is the man,
Who, not by…
About Thomas Chatterton
Thomas Chatterton (1752-11-20 – 1770-08-24 ) was an English poet and literary forger, claimed by some as the father of English Romantic poetry. He is best known for his verses in pseudo-medieval English, which he claimed were by a hitherto unknown 15th century poet called Thomas Rowley. He died, either by suicide or by accidental overdose, at the age of 17.
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