Thomas Tickell, son of Rev. Richard Tickell, was born in 1686 in Cumberland, England. He was educated at Queen's College, Oxford where he earned a Master of Arts degree. In 1710 he was made a Fellow. He held this Fellowship until 1726, when he left to get married in Dublin. He and his wife Clotilda had four children and resided in Dublin for the remainder of their lives.
A good friend of Addison's, Tickell also produced numerous poems during his career and regularly contributed verse to the Spectator. He also worked as a translator. Notably, his translation of the first book of Iliad appeared simultaneously with the Pope's in 1715.
Tickell was very much interested in ... more »
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Thomas Tickell Poems
Lucy and Colin
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair, Bright Lucy was the grace; Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream Reflect so fair a face,
To the Earl of Warwick, on the Death of ...
If, dumb too long, the drooping Muse hath stay'd, And left her debt to Addison unpaid; Blame not her silence, Warwick, but bemoan, And judge, oh judge, my bosom by your own.
______ Campos, ubi Troja fuit. Virg.
To Mr. Addison on His Tragedy of Cato
Too long hath love engross'd Britannia's stage, And sunk to softness all our tragic rage: By that alone did empires fall or rise, And fate depended on a fair-one's eyes:
On the Prospect of Peace
______ Sacerdos Fronde super mitram, & felici comptus oliva. Virg.
To a Lady Before Marriage
Oh! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art, With charms to win, and sense to fix the heart! By thousands sought, Clotilda, canst thou free Thy croud of captives and descend to me?
To Mr. Addison on His Opera of Rosamond
______ Ne fortè pudori Sit tibi Musa lyræ solers, & cantor Apollo.
Comments about Thomas Tickell
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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Lucy and Colin
Of Leinster, fam'd for maidens fair,
Bright Lucy was the grace;
Nor e'er did Liffy's limpid stream
Reflect so fair a face,
Till luckless love and pining care
Impair'd her rosy hue,
Her coral lip, and damask cheek,
And eyes of glossy blue.
Oh! have you seen a lily pale,
When beating rains descend?
So droop'd the slow-consuming maid;
Her life now near its end.
By Lucy warn'd, of flattering swains
Take heed, ye easy fair!
Of vengeance due to broken vows,
Ye perjured swains, beware!
Three times, all in the dead of night,
A bell ...