Thomas Love Peacock
Thomas Love Peacock Poems
Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.
...
I play'd with you 'mid cowslips blowing,
When I was six and you were four;
When garlands weaving, flower-balls throwing,
Were pleasures soon to please no more.
...
The poor man's sins are glaring;
In the face of ghostly warning
He is caught in the fact
Of an overt act---
...
Instead of sitting wrapped up in flannel
With rheumatism in every joint,
I wish I was in the English Channel,
Just going 'round the Lizard Point
...
Saint Laura, in her sleep of death,
Preserves beneath the tomb
---'Tis willed where what is willed must be---
In incorruptibility
...
THE LADY.
O cavalier! what dost thou here,
Thy tuneful vigils keeping;
...
Long night succeeds thy little day;
Oh blighted blossom! can it be,
That this grey stone, and grassy clay,
Have clos'd our anxious care of thee?
...
My thoughts by night are often filled
With visions false as fair:
For in the past alone I build
My castles in the air.
...
O! The spring-time of life is the season of blooming,
And the morning of love is the season of joy;
Ere noontide and summer, with radiance consuming,
Look down on their beauty, to parch and destroy.
...
Accept, bright spirit, reft in life's best bloom
This votive wreath to thy untimely tomb.
Formed to adorn all scenes, and charm in all,
The fire-side circle, and the courtly hall;
...
Seamen three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
...
Quickly pass the social glass,
Hence with idle sorrow!
No delay---enjoy today,
Think not of tomorrow!
...
Hark! o'er the silent waters stealing,
The dash of oars sounds soft and clear:
Through night's deep veil, all forms concealing,
Nearer it comes, and yet more near.
...
The mountain sheep are sweeter,
But the valley sheep are fatter;
We therefore deemed it meeter
To carry off the latter.
...
I.
O'er bush and briar Childe Launcelot sprung
With ardent hopes elate,
...
By the mossy weed-flowered column,
Where the setting moonbeam's glance
Streams a radiance cold and solemn
On the haunts of old romance:
...
Nay, deem me not insensible, Cesario,
To female charms; nor think this heart of mine
Is cas'd in adamant; because, forsooth,
I cannot ogle, and hyperbolize,
...
Thomas Love Peacock Biography
Thomas Love Peacock was born in 1785, in Dorset, at Weymouth. He was the son of a glass merchant, who died three years after he was born. He was raised at his grandfather's house in Chertsey, by his mother. Despite the fact that his formal schooling ended before his teens (he never attended a university), it is important to note that he read widely in five languages throughout his lifetime. When he could no longer support himself without working, he took a job in 1819 with the East India Company. The next year, he married Jane Gryffydh, daughter to a Welsh rector. Peacock's daughter later married George Meredith, also a literary man. Peacock mixed with many of his contemporary Romantic poets. He often openly criticized them, but this never gave him much trouble. His best known work is his satiricle prose. His novels consist chiefly of witty conversation with sparse action. The characters were often burlesque, but subtle imitations of famous men of his day. In 1866, the hardheaded, tounge-in-cheeked Peacock died in his library at Halliford-on-Thames, after refusing to leave his precious books to burn.)
The Best Poem Of Thomas Love Peacock
Beyond The Sea
Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
My heart is gone, far, far from me;
And ever on its track will flee
My thoughts, my dreams, beyond the sea.
Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
The swallow wanders fast and free:
Oh, happy bird! were I like thee,
I, too, would fly beyond the sea.
Beyond the sea, beyond the sea,
Are kindly hearts and social glee:
But here for me they may not be;
My heart is gone beyond the sea.
Thomas Love Peacock Comments
Thomas Love Peacock Quotes
A book that furnishes no quotations is, me judice, no book—it is a plaything.
Respectable means rich, and decent means poor. I should die if I heard my family called decent.
Marriage may often be a stormy lake, but celibacy is almost always a muddy horsepond.
The waste of plenty is the resource of scarcity.
I never failed to convince an audience that the best thing they could do was to go away.
Thomas Love Peacock Popularity
Thomas Love Peacock Popularity
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4/18/2024 9:27:36 PM # 1.0.0.1119
CONGRATULATIONS being chosen as The Poet Of The Day, dear great poet.