OR, THE CAGED HAWK. No more, thou lithe and long-winged hawk, of desert-life for thee; No more across the sultry sands shalt thou go swooping free: Blunt idle talons, idle beak, wi…
Mostly well-known for being a novelist, particularly for his work Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray was also a poet of some repute and published a number of verses during his lifetime. He was born in Calcutta, India, in 1811 but his father died just a few years later and his mother promptly sent the young Thackeray back to England where he went to school in Southampton and then Chiswick, near London. In his later youth, Thackeray went to Charterhouse School which he didn’t much care for, and would later parody, before heading to Cambridge where he first began to write poetry. He was not the most academically gifted or serious of students and left after two years, choosing instead to travel in Europe for a while. Although Thackeray received an inheritance when he reached twenty one, he lost most of it either gambling, investing poorly or living too much of the social high life. The turning point in his life came in 1836 when he married Isabella Shawe with whom he would eventually have three children. This change in circumstance led him to pursue his career as a writer more seriously, firstly in journalism where he worked for the conservative publication Frazer’s Magazine. By 1837 he was also finding an outlet by writing book reviews for The Times and later began to produce satirical work for the newly created Punch magazine. After the birth of their third child, Thackeray’s wife began to suffer from depression and tried to commit suicide on a boat trip to Ireland. Her condition deteriorated even though he looked after her and searched for every possible cure but she was eventually sent to a home near Paris where she remained for the rest of her days. In 1840, now for all intent a widower, Thackeray achieved some success with two travel books about Paris and Ireland and first published Vanity Fair in installments at the beginning of 1847. Many saw him as the best Victorian writer since Dickens and his celebrity suddenly grew as he was courted by the same people he had so harshly satirized in Vanity Fair. A number of novels followed over the next ten years, including Pendennis and The History of Henry Esmond, which Anthony Trollope said was the writer’s greatest work. Thackeray was known for his simple use of vocabulary and a lively style in his poetry, something that set him apart from his compatriot Dickens. These were the light, whimsical verses of polite society and may well have been seen as a less serious diversion in comparison to his more satirical prose works such as The Luck of Barry Lyndon and The Book of Snobs. Unfortunately, with his new success, Thackeray also began to suffer from long term health problems, some of which left him debilitated for days. He was also known for his gluttonous habits and rarely took any form of exercise and, in 1863, after a dining out with friends, Thackeray suffered a stroke whilst undressing for bed. He was 52 and over 7,000 mourners attended his funeral in Kensington Gardens.
William Makepeace Thackeray şiirleri
No more, thou lithe and long-winged hawk, of desert-life for thee; No more across the sultry sands shalt thou go swooping free: Blunt idle talons, idle beak, with spurning of thy c…
I. For the sole edification Of this decent congregation,…
For the sole edification Of this decent congregation, Goodly people, by your grant I will sing a holy chant --…
Dear Lucy, you know what my wish is, - I hate all your Frenchified fuss: Your silly entrées and made dishes Were never intended for us.…
Little KITTY LORIMER, Fair, and young, and witty, What has brought your ladyship Rambling to the City?…
Ah! bleak and barren was the moor, Ah! loud and piercing was the storm, The cottage roof was shelter'd sure, The cottage hearth was bright and warm—…
Before I lost my five poor wits, I mind me of a Romish clerk, Who sang how Care, the phantom dark, Beside the belted horseman sits.…
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Although I enter not, Yet round about the spot, Ofttimes I hover, And near the sacred gate,…
First I saw the white bear, then I saw the black; Then I saw the camel with a hump upon his back; Then I saw the grey wolf, with mutton in his maw; Then I saw the wombat waddle in…
Come all ye Christian people, unto my tale give ear, 'Tis about a base consperracy, as quickly shall appear; 'Twill make your hair to bristle up, and your eyes to start and glow, W…
Come to the greenwood tree, Come where the dark woods be, Dearest, O come with me! Let us rove—O my love—O my love!…
The Pope he is a happy man, His Palace is the Vatican, And there he sits and drains his can: The Pope he is a happy man.…
Special Jurymen of England! who admire your country's laws, And proclaim a British Jury worthy of the realm's applause; Gayly compliment each other at the issue of a cause Which wa…
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