Charles Wolfe Poems

Poems » charles wolfe

Charles Wolfe
Charles Wolfe (December 14, 1791 February 21, 1823) was an Irish poet. Born at Blackhall, County Kildare, Wolfe attended St. Dominics, Belfast between 1809 and 1814 and was ordained as a Church of Ireland priest in 1817. He is remembered for his poem "The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna", written in 1816 and much collected in 19th and early 20th century anthologies. Wolfe died from madcow disease caught from a cow at the age of 32.

michael: a pastoral poem
 
 
If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
Yo... [read poem]
to a skylark
 
 
Ethereal minstrel! pilgrim of the sky!
Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or,... [read poem]
the virgin
 
 
Mother! whose virgin bosom was uncrost
With the least shade of thought to sin allied.
Woma... [read poem]
the old cumberland beggar
 
 
I saw an aged Beggar in my walk;
And he was seated, by the highway side,
On a low structur... [read poem]
simon lee: the old huntsman
 
 
With an incident in which he was concerned

In the sweet shire of Cardigan,
N... [read poem]
to a highland girl
 
 
Sweet Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Twice seven consenting ... [read poem]
there was a boy
 
 
There was a Boy; ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander! many a time,
At even... [read poem]
scorn not the sonnet
 
 
Scorn not the Sonnet; Critic, you have frowned,
Mindless of its just honours; with this key... [read poem]
it is a beauteous evening, calm and free
 
 
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with ... [read poem]
ode to duty
 
 
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guid... [read poem]
the solitary reaper
 
 
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by hersel... [read poem]
ode: intimations of immortality from recollections of early childhood
 
 
The child is father of the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by n... [read poem]
on the extinction of the venetian republic
 
 
Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee;
And was the safeguard of the west: the worth
O... [read poem]
song at the feast of brougham castle upon the restoration of lord clifford, the shepherd, to the estates and honours of his ancestors
 
 
High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.--... [read poem]
resolution and independence
 
 
There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
But n... [read poem]
yarrow unvisited
 
 
Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride,
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow!

From ... [read poem]
the tables turned
 
 
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, a... [read poem]
she was a phantom of delight
 
 
She was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, se... [read poem]
a slumber did my spirit seal
 
 
A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could no... [read poem]
yarrow revisited
 
 
The gallant Youth, who may have gained,
Or seeks, a "winsome Marrow,"
Was but an Infan... [read poem]
the power of armies is a visible thing
 
 
The power of Armies is a visible thing,
Formal and circumscribed in time and space;
But wh... [read poem]
london, 1802
 
 
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of s... [read poem]
october, 1803
 
 
These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air... [read poem]
she dwelt among the untrodden ways
 
 
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there wer... [read poem]
on the departure of sir walter scott from abbotsford, for naples
 
 
A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,
Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light
Engende... [read poem]
sonnets from the river duddon: after-thought
 
 
I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away.--Vain sympathies!
For, bac... [read poem]
the cinnamon peeler
 
 
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on y... [read poem]
inside of king's college chapel, cambridge
 
 
Tax not the royal Saint with vain expense,
With ill-matched aims the Architect who planned--... [read poem]
elegiac stanzas suggested by a picture of peele castle in a storm, painted by sir george beaumont
 
 
I was thy neighbour once, thou rugged Pile!
Four summer weeks I dwelt in sight of thee:
I ... [read poem]
to the cuckoo
 
 
O blithe New-comer! I have heard,
I hear thee and rejoice.
O Cuckoo! shall I call thee Bir... [read poem]

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