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Updated: May 15, 2025
If there be laureate laurels, or bays, or palms, In these red, Radical, revelling, riotous times, They should be the true bard's, though mid-age calms His revolutionary fierce rolling rhymes, Fulfilled with clamour and clangour and storm of psalms That great lyre's golden echoes rolled away! Forth tripped another claimant of the bay.
His golden year was 1850, the year of the publication of In Memoriam, of his selection as poet laureate, to succeed Wordsworth, and of his marriage to Emily Sellwood. He had been in love with her for fourteen years, but insufficient income had hitherto prevented marriage.
Sah-luma's clear, mocking laugh just then rang sharply through the perfumed stillness. "Thou mad Theos! Whither art thou bound?" cried the Laureate mirthfully. "Wilt leave our noble hostess ere the entertainment has begun? Ungallant barbarian! What frenzy possesses thee?" These words recalled him to himself.
Men who have written books have been the most fortunate in this respect, because they possess an attraction for literary men which those whose lives have been embodied in deeds do not possess. Thus there have been lives written of Poets Laureate who were mere men of their time, and of their time only. Dr.
On December 29th, her letter to Southey was despatched; and from an excitement not unnatural in a girl who has worked herself up to the pitch of writing to a Poet Laureate and asking his opinion of her poems, she used some high-flown expressions which, probably, gave him the idea that she was a romantic young lady, unacquainted with the realities of life.
Nevertheless, though I may think, I speak not at all of matters such as these, and for my present errand 'tis but to say that a Priest of the Inner Temple waits without, desirous of instant speech with the most illustrious Sah-luma." "A Priest of the Inner Temple!" echoed the Laureate wonderingly, . . "By my faith, a most unwelcome visitor! ... What business can he have with me?"
And in the light she caught the out-line of a pretty head, and of a nose slightly "tip-tilted," according to the model which the Laureate has brought into fashion. Where had she seen her before? She remembered all at once with a rush of bewildered pleasure. "Janey! Oh, Janey!" she cried, "Listen! This is too extraordinary. There is the young lady in black!"
That the Laureate was heavy-gaited in composition, taking five years to finish one comedy, that he was, on the other hand, too swift, trusting Nature rather than elaborate Art, that he was dull and unimaginative, that he was keen and remarkably sharp-witted, that he affected a profundity of learning of which he gave no evidences, that his plays were only less numerous than Dryden's, are other particulars we gather from conflicting witnesses of the period.
Paul averted his head, and set one hand before his face. Months ago, when May Gold's perfidy was a new thing, and the whole world was darkened, he had copied these lines from the Poet Laureate with tears, and they had seemed to him a perfect expression of himself. The old man ground out the lines with increasing scorn, and Paul began to grin, and then to shake with suppressed laughter.
"I tell you Bludyard Stripling ought to be our poet laureate. He's the laureate of the Empire, at any rate. Why, a song like that binds a nation together. You haven't any poet like that, have you?" "No-o," answered Sam, thinking in shame of Shortfellow, Slowell, and Pittier. "I'm afraid all our poets are old women and don't understand us soldiers."
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