Charles Stuart Calverley
Charles Stuart Calverley was an English poet and wit. He was the literary father of what has been called "the university school of humour".
He was born at Martley, Worcestershire, and given the name Charles Stuart Blayds. In 1852, his father, the Rev. Henry Blayds, resumed the old family name of Calverley, which his grandfather had exchanged for Blayds in 1807. Charles went up to Balliol College, Oxford from Harrow School in 1850, and was soon known in Oxford as the most daring and high-spirited undergraduate of his time. He was a universal favourite, a delightful companion, a brilliant scholar and the playful enemy of all "dons." In 1851 ... more »
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Charles Stuart Calverley Poems
Peace. A Study
He stood, a worn-out City clerk -- Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday, For forty years from dawn to dark -- Alone beside Caermarthen Bay.
"Forever": 'tis a single word! Our rude forefathers deemed it two: Can you imagine so absurd A view?
1 Canst thou love me, lady? 2 I've not learn'd to woo: 3 Thou art on the shady 4 Side of sixty too.
The Auld Wife
PART I The auld wife sat at her ivied door, (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
In those old days which poets say were golden -- (Perhaps they laid the gilding on themselves: And, if they did, I'm all the more beholden To those brown dwellers in my dusty shelves,
White is the wold, and ghostly The dank and leafless trees;
I. She stood at Greenwich, motionless amid The ever-shifting crowd of passengers.
Companions - A Tale Of A Grandfather
I KNOW not of what we ponder’d Or made pretty pretence to talk, As, her hand within mine, we wander’d Tow’rd the pool by the lime-tree walk,
Gemini And Virgo
Some vast amount of years ago, Ere all my youth had vanished from me, A boy it was my lot to know, Whom his familiar friends called Tommy.
Hic Vir, Hic Est
Often, when o'er tree and turret, Eve a dying radiance flings, By that ancient pile I linger Known familiarly as 'King's.'
Dover To Munich
Farewell, farewell! Before our prow Leaps in white foam the noisy channel, A tourist's cap is on my brow, My legs are cased in tourists' flannel:
Ode To Tobacco
Thou, who when fears attack Bidst them avaunt, and Black Care, at the horseman's back Perching, unseatest;
The Cock And The Bull
You see this pebble-stone? It’s a thing I bought Of a bit of a chit of a boy i’ the mid o’ the day — I like to dock the smaller parts-o’-speech,
On The Brink
I WATCH’D her as she stoop’d to pluck A wild flower in her hair to twine; And wish’d that it had been my luck To call her mine;
Comments about Charles Stuart Calverley
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Peace. A Study
He stood, a worn-out City clerk —
Who'd toil'd, and seen no holiday,
For forty years from dawn to dark —
Alone beside Caermarthen Bay.
He felt the salt spray on his lips;
Heard children's voices on the sands;
Up the sun's path he saw the ships
Sail on and on to other lands;
And laugh'd aloud. Each sight and sound
To him was joy too deep for tears;
He sat him on the beach, and bound
A blue bandana round his ears
And thought how, posted near his door,
His own green door on Camden ...