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Thomas Chatterton's Poetry, by first line

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  • Behold! just coming from above,
    The judge, with majesty and love!
    16 lines
  • In Virgynė the sweltrie sun gan sheene,
    And hotte upon the mees did caste his raie;
    91 lines, 2 comments
  • Burgum, I thank thee, thou hast let me see
    That Bristol has impress'd her stamp on thee,
    77 lines, 2 comments
  • Recite the loves of Narva and Mored
    The priest of Chalma's triple idol said.
    105 lines, 1 comment
  • On Tiber's banks, Tiber, whose waters glide
    In slow meanders down to Gaigra's side;
    122 lines, 1 comment
  • The Sun revolving on his axis turns,
    And with creative fire intensely burns;
    38 lines, 1 comment
  • Ah blame me not, Catcott, if from the right way
    My notions and actions run far.
    28 lines, 1 comment
  • O God, whose thunder shakes the sky,
    Whose eye this atom globe surveys,
    32 lines, 1 comment
  • *Eclogue the First.*
    Whanne Englonde, smeethynge from her lethal wounde,
    271 lines, 3 comments
  • Where the rough Caigra rolls the surgy wave,
    Urging his thunders thro' the echoing cave;
    104 lines, 1 comment
  • In days of old, when Wesley's power
    Gathered new strength by every hour;
    54 lines, 1 comment
  • Says Tom to Jack, 'tis very odd,
    These representatives of God,
    24 lines, 4 comments
  • Sharp was the frost, the wind was high
    And sparkling stars bedeckt the sky
    40 lines, 1 comment
  • Young Colin was as stout a boy
    As ever gave a maiden joy;
    13 lines, 1 comment
  • Revolving in their destin'd sphere,
    The hours begin another year
    48 lines, 1 comment
  • Begin, my muse, the imitative lay,
    Aonian doxies sound the thrumming string;
    76 lines, 1 comment
  • Almighty Framer of the Skies!
    43 lines, 1 comment
  • The pleasing sweets of spring and summer past,
    The falling leaf flies in the sultry blast,
    54 lines
  • When autumn, bleak and sun-burnt, do appear,
    With his gold hand gilting the falling leaf,
    12 lines
  • ANENT a brooklette as I laie reclynd,
    Listeynge to heare the water glyde alonge,
    149 lines
  • AS onn a hylle one eve sittynge,
    At oure Ladie's Chyrche mouche wonderynge,
    21 lines
  • BOOKE st.
    WHANNE Scythyannes, salvage as the wolves theie chacde,
    110 lines
  • HERAWDE
    THE Tournament begynnes; the hammerrs sounde;
    216 lines
  • Johne makes a jarre 'boute
      Lancaster and Yorke.
    3 lines
  • MAIE Selynesse on erthes boundes bee hadde?
    Maie yt adyghte yn human shape bee founde?
    13 lines
  • Mie boolie entes, adiewe: ne more the syghte
    Of guilden merke shalle mete mie joieous eyne;
    19 lines
  • No more I hail the morning's golden gleam,
    No more the wonders of the view I sing;
    163 lines, 1 comment
  • O CHRYSTE, it is a grief for me to tell;
    HOW manie a nobil erle and valrous knyghte
    619 lines
  • OH Truth! immortal daughter of the skies,
    Too lyttle known to wryters of these daies,
    722 lines
  • ONNE Ruddeborne  bank twa pynynge Maydens sate,
    Theire teares faste dryppeynge to the waterre cleere;
    54 lines
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