George Borrow Poems
- The Hail-Storm (From The Norse... When from our ships we ...
- Ode To A Mountain How lovely art thou in thy tresses of ...
- The Deceived Merman (From The ...
- Aager And Eliza (From The Old ... Have ye heard of bold ...
- National Song King Christian stood beside the mast; Smoke, ...
- Glee Roseate colours on heaven’s high arch Are beginning to ...
- From Allan Cunningham Sing, sing, my friend; breathe life ...
George Henry Borrow (5 July 1803 – 26 July 1881) was an English author who wrote novels and travelogues based on his own experiences around Europe. Over the course of his wanderings, he developed a close affinity with the Romani people of Europe. They figure prominently in his work. His best known book is The Bible in Spain; Lavengro is autobiographical, and Romany Rye is about his time with the ... more »
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I have always been a friend to hero-worship; it is the only rational one, and has always been in use amongst civilized peoplethe worship of spirits is synonymous with barbarismit is mere f...George Borrow (1803-1881), British author. An elderly individual, in Lavengro, ch. 23 (1851).
''If you must commit suicide ... always contrive to do it as decorously as possible; the decencies, whether of life or of death, should never be lost sight of.''George Borrow (1803-1881), British author. An "elderly individual," in Lavengro, ch. 23 (1851).
''There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?''George Borrow (1803-1881), British author. Jasper, in Lavengro, ch. 25 (1851).
''I am invariably of the politics of the people at whose table I sit, or beneath whose roof I sleep.''George Borrow (1803-1881), British author. The Bible in Spain, ch. 16 (1843).
Comments about George Borrow
The Hail-Storm (From The Norse)
When from our ships we bounded,
I heard, with fear astounded,
The storm of Thorgerd’s waking,
From Northern vapours breaking;
With flinty masses blended,
Gigantic hail descended,
And thick and fiercely rattled
Against us there embattled.
To aid the hostile maces,
It drifted in our faces;
It drifted, dealing slaughter,
And blood ran out like water—
Ran reeking, red, and horrid,
From batter’d cheek and forehead;
We plied our swords, but no men
Can stand ‘gainst hail and foemen.
And demon Thorgerd raging
To see us still engaging,