Lives there a man whose harden'd soul Ne'er felt soft Pity's kind control; Ne'er learn'd for others' joys to glow, Or shed the tear for others' woe;…
Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd was an English writer, parliamentarian and member of the judiciary who added the letters SL after his name when, in 1835, he became one of the ancient order of barristers that were entitled to call themselves Serjeant-at-Law while serving at the English bar. He numbered famous literary figures amongst his close friends, including Charles Dickens who dedicated his famous book The Pickwick Papers to him. He was born on the 26th May 1795 in Reading, Berkshire, the son of a prosperous brewer of beer. He had a fairly modest education before being sent to London in 1813 to take up his studies in law under a “special pleader” by the name of Joseph Chitty. Within eight years he was summoned to the bar and he then moved on to the Oxford circuit. He had a successful career as a barrister and judge, succeeding to the position of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas in 1849. During the intervening years he also made his mark as a politician, spending time as a Member of Parliament at different times. One of his major achievements was to get the Copyright Bill through difficult legislative stages, finally becoming law in 1842 after being blocked by strong opposition a number of times. While establishing himself in the legal profession, Talfourd wrote a great number of articles to supplement a meagre income, mostly of a legal nature. Pieces appeared in the Edinburgh Review and Quarterly Review as well as the London Magazine, amongst others. He secured a position as law reporter on The Times newspaper. He built a growing reputation as a writer. One of his most famous pieces was connected with a legal incident where he acted in defence of a publisher and author called Edward Moxon who was charged with blasphemy in connection with Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem Queen Mab. Moxon lost his case and was forced to expunge the offending parts of the poem from his book. Talfourd published his: His own poetry included a number of tributes to other poets, including his good friend Dickens. Here is a verse called On His Oliver Twist: Talfourd had some of his work acted out at London theatres including a Greek tragedy called Ion, which appeared at Covent Garden theatre in 1836. This was very well received in London, and also when it was transferred to the American stage some years later. He wrote a historical piece about the Scottish Macdonald clan in 1839 called Glencoe, or the Fate of the Macdonalds, and this was also staged, this time at the Haymarket the following year. Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd died on the 13th March 1854 following an apoplectic seizure sustained while sitting on the bench at Stafford, midway through his address to the jury. Charles Dickens attended at his funeral.
Sir Thomas Noon Talfourd şiirleri
PERFORMED BY DR. VALPY AT READING SCHOOL There is a holy magic in that tone, Can wake from memory's selectest cell…
Hark! from the distant town the long acclaim On the charm'd silence of the evening breaks With startling interruption;--yet it wakes Thought of that voice of never-dying fame…
VISITED ON A MISTY EVENING IN AUTUMN Soft uplands, that in boyhood's earliest days Seem'd mountain-like and distant, fain once more…
Where Ganges' sacred stream, with forests crown'd, Laves fields unknown, and cheers the torrid ground; Where craggy rocks and cloud-capt mountains rise, With woods untrodden crown'…
FROM TILEHURST, AT THE CLOSE OF THE SAME ELECTION Too long have I regarded thee, fair vale, But as a scene of struggle which denies…
ON THE BIRTH OF HIS FIRST CHILD; IN RECOLLECTION OF HIS PERFORMANCE OF VIRGINIUS There is no father, who, with swimming eyes, Has seen thee present life and passion lend…
How simple in their grandeur are the forms That constitute this picture! Nature grants Scarce more than sternest cynic might desire-- Earth, Sea, and Sky, and hardly lends to each…
Introduction To Book The First Of The Intended Poem: What Muse, my soul, awakes thy trembling lyre, And fills my ardent breast with conscious fire,…
Emblem of our sad condition, Proof of woe and mis'ry drear; Loudest voice of fair contrition, Sorrow's offspring--trickling tear.…
Spirit! from thy clay ascending, Seek thy native seat above, Angels thro' the air attending To the God of Grace and Love!…
Addressed to Mr. Lancaster. No fields of Death, no hero's deeds I sing, No splendid conquest, no victorious King;…
Thrice happy they, who early fall, Who scarcely draw their feeble breath, Just view the gloom that frowns on all, And sweetly sink in friendly death.…
Oft has the Muse, from heav'nly essence sprung, The laurel'd deeds of mighty heroes sung, Oft touch'd the chords that string her golden lyre, And warm'd the soul, with more than mo…
Hush! let the mind be sooth'd and calm'd in peace, Each worldly care, each angry passion cease; Imagination's fairest forms decay, Unrivall'd Reason hold her boundless sway;…
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