- 96 pages
- English
- ePUB (mobile friendly)
- Available on iOS & Android
eBook - ePub
Selected Poems of Thomas Chatterton
About this book
This book presents Thomas Chatterton's selected poems. It includes introductions to Chatterton's life, technique, and reputation, and shows the historical significance and unexpected range of his poetry, which spans the genres of satire, elegy, lyric, narrative verse, and poetic drama.
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Yes, you can access Selected Poems of Thomas Chatterton by Grevel Lindop in PDF and/or ePUB format, as well as other popular books in Literature & Literary Criticism. We have over one million books available in our catalogue for you to explore.
Information
Rowley Poems
FROM ÆLLA
A Tragycal Enterlude, or
Discoofseynge Tragedie,
wrotenn bie Thomas Rowleie;
Plaiedd before Mastre Canynge,
atte hys howse nempte the Rodde Lodge;
also before the Duke of Norfolck, Johan Howard.
Personnes Representedd:
AElla, bie Thomas Rowleie, Preeste, the Aucthoure.
Celmonde, Johan Iscamm, Preeste.
Hurra, Syrr Thybotte Gorges, Knyghte.
Birtha, Mastre Edwarde Canynge.
Odherr Partes bie Knyghtes, Mynstrelles.
Entroductionne
Somme cherisaunei 'tys to gentle mynde, 105
Whan heie have chevyced theyre londe from bayne,
Whan theie ar dedd, theie leave yer name behynde,
And theyre good deedes doe on the earthe remayne;
Downe yn the grave wee ynhyme everych steyne,
Whylest al her gentlenesse ys made to sheene, 110
Lyche fetyve baubels geasonne to be seene.
AElla, the wardenne of thys castell stede,
Whylest Saxons dyd the Englysche sceptre swaie,
Who made whole troopes of Dacyan men to blede,
Then seel'd hys eyne, and seel'd hys eyne for aie, 115
Wee rowze hym uppe before the judgment daie,
Discoofseynge Tragedie,
wrotenn bie Thomas Rowleie;
Plaiedd before Mastre Canynge,
atte hys howse nempte the Rodde Lodge;
also before the Duke of Norfolck, Johan Howard.
Personnes Representedd:
AElla, bie Thomas Rowleie, Preeste, the Aucthoure.
Celmonde, Johan Iscamm, Preeste.
Hurra, Syrr Thybotte Gorges, Knyghte.
Birtha, Mastre Edwarde Canynge.
Odherr Partes bie Knyghtes, Mynstrelles.
Entroductionne
Somme cherisaunei 'tys to gentle mynde, 105
Whan heie have chevyced theyre londe from bayne,
Whan theie ar dedd, theie leave yer name behynde,
And theyre good deedes doe on the earthe remayne;
Downe yn the grave wee ynhyme everych steyne,
Whylest al her gentlenesse ys made to sheene, 110
Lyche fetyve baubels geasonne to be seene.
AElla, the wardenne of thys castell stede,
Whylest Saxons dyd the Englysche sceptre swaie,
Who made whole troopes of Dacyan men to blede,
Then seel'd hys eyne, and seel'd hys eyne for aie, 115
Wee rowze hym uppe before the judgment daie,
105 cherisauni comfort
106 chevyced preserved
109 ynhyme bury
1ll jetyve beauteous; baubels jewels; geasonne rare
114 Dacyan Danish
To saie what he, as clergyond, can kenne,
And howe hee sojourned in the vale of men.
And howe hee sojourned in the vale of men.
Ælla
The scene, Bristol. Enter Celmonde.
Celmonde:
Before yonne roddie sonne has droove hys wayne
Throwe halfe hys joornie, dyghte yn gites of goulde, 120
Mee, happeless mee, hee wylle a wretche behoulde,
Mieselfe, and al that's myne, bounde ynn myschaunces chayne.
Ah! Birtha, whie dydde Nature frame thee fayre?
Whie art thou all thatt poyntelle canne bewreene?
Whie art thou nott as coarse as odhers are? - 125
Botte thenn thie soughle woulde throwe thy vysage sheene,
Yatt shemres onn thie cornelie semlykeene,
Lyche nottebrowne cloudes, whann bie the sonne made redde,
Orr scarlette, wythe wayide lynnen clothe ywreene,
Syke would thie spryte uponn thie vysage spredde. 130
Thys daie brave Ælla dothe thyne honde and harte
Clayme as hys owne to be, whyche nee fromm hys moste parte.
And cann I lyve to see herr wythe anere?
Ytt cannotte, muste nott, naie, ytt shalle not bee.
Thys nyghte I'll putte stronge poysonn ynn the beere, 135
And hymm, herr, and myselfe, attenes wyll slea.
Assyst mee, Helle! lett Devylles rounde mee tende,
To slea mieself, mie love, and eke mie doughtie friende.
Celmonde:
Before yonne roddie sonne has droove hys wayne
Throwe halfe hys joornie, dyghte yn gites of goulde, 120
Mee, happeless mee, hee wylle a wretche behoulde,
Mieselfe, and al that's myne, bounde ynn myschaunces chayne.
Ah! Birtha, whie dydde Nature frame thee fayre?
Whie art thou all thatt poyntelle canne bewreene?
Whie art thou nott as coarse as odhers are? - 125
Botte thenn thie soughle woulde throwe thy vysage sheene,
Yatt shemres onn thie cornelie semlykeene,
Lyche nottebrowne cloudes, whann bie the sonne made redde,
Orr scarlette, wythe wayide lynnen clothe ywreene,
Syke would thie spryte uponn thie vysage spredde. 130
Thys daie brave Ælla dothe thyne honde and harte
Clayme as hys owne to be, whyche nee fromm hys moste parte.
And cann I lyve to see herr wythe anere?
Ytt cannotte, muste nott, naie, ytt shalle not bee.
Thys nyghte I'll putte stronge poysonn ynn the beere, 135
And hymm, herr, and myselfe, attenes wyll slea.
Assyst mee, Helle! lett Devylles rounde mee tende,
To slea mieself, mie love, and eke mie doughtie friende.
117 clergyond taught
120 dyshte decked: gites robes
124 poyntelle pen; bewreene describe
127 shemres shimmers: seemlykeene countenance
129 waylde choice; ywreene covered
130 syke so
133 anere another
136 attenes at once
138 doughtie mighty
Enter Ælla and Birtha.
Ælla:
Notte, whanne the hallie prieste dyd make me knyghte,
Blessynge the weaponne, tellynge future dede, 140
Howe bie mie honde the prevyd Dane should blede,
Howe I schulde often bee, and often wynne, ynn fyghte;
Notte, whann I fyrste behelde thie beauteous hue,
Whyche strooke mie mynde, and rouzed mie softer soule;
Nott, whann from the barbed horse yn fyghte dyd viewe 145
The flying Dacians oere the wyde playne roule,
Whan all the troopes of Denmarque made grete dole,
Dydd I fele joie wyth syke reddoure as nowe,
Whan hallie preest, the lechemanne of the soule,
Dydd knytte us both ynn a caytysnede vowe: 150
Now hallie AElla's selynesse ys grate;
Shap haveth nowe ymade hys woes for to emmate.
BIRTHA:
Mie lorde, and husbande, syke a joie ys myne;
Botte mayden modestie moste ne soe saie,
Albeytte thou mayest rede ytt ynn myne eyne, 155
Or ynn myne harte, where thou shalte be for aie;
Inne sothe, I have botte meeded oute thie faie;
For twelve tymes twelve the mone hathe bin yblente,
As manie tymes hathe vyed the Godde of daie,
And on the grasse her lemes of sylverr sente, 160
Sythe thou dydst cheese mee for thie swote to bee,
Enactynge ynn the same moste faiefullie to mee.
Ælla:
Notte, whanne the hallie prieste dyd make me knyghte,
Blessynge the weaponne, tellynge future dede, 140
Howe bie mie honde the prevyd Dane should blede,
Howe I schulde often bee, and often wynne, ynn fyghte;
Notte, whann I fyrste behelde thie beauteous hue,
Whyche strooke mie mynde, and rouzed mie softer soule;
Nott, whann from the barbed horse yn fyghte dyd viewe 145
The flying Dacians oere the wyde playne roule,
Whan all the troopes of Denmarque made grete dole,
Dydd I fele joie wyth syke reddoure as nowe,
Whan hallie preest, the lechemanne of the soule,
Dydd knytte us both ynn a caytysnede vowe: 150
Now hallie AElla's selynesse ys grate;
Shap haveth nowe ymade hys woes for to emmate.
BIRTHA:
Mie lorde, and husbande, syke a joie ys myne;
Botte mayden modestie moste ne soe saie,
Albeytte thou mayest rede ytt ynn myne eyne, 155
Or ynn myne harte, where thou shalte be for aie;
Inne sothe, I have botte meeded oute thie faie;
For twelve tymes twelve the mone hathe bin yblente,
As manie tymes hathe vyed the Godde of daie,
And on the grasse her lemes of sylverr sente, 160
Sythe thou dydst cheese mee for thie swote to bee,
Enactynge ynn the same moste faiefullie to mee.
139 hallie holy
141 prevyd warlike
...Table of contents
- Cover
- Half Title
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Contents
- PREFACE
- INTRODUCTION
- ACKNOWLEDGED POEMS
- ROWLEY POEMS
- NOTES
- APPENDIX A : 'Chatterton's Last Verses'
- APPENDIX B : Chatterton's Will