This poem is in the public domain. Charles Kingsley. His brother, Henry Kingsley, also became a novelist. ... Get Poetry Analysis to your Inbox. Charles Kingsley was an English priest of the Church of England, university professor, historian and novelist, particularly associated with the West Country and northeast Hampshire. Charles Kingsley Bio There cannot be many writers in the world who have written a book and then had a seaside resort named after that book, but Charles Kingsley was such a man. His father, Charles Sr. was the vicar of Holne. Charles Kingsley was born on July 12, 1819, at Holne Vicarage near Dartmoor and spent his childhood in Devonshire, England. The Last Buccaneer poem by Charles Kingsley. He spent his childhood in Clovelly, Devon and Barnack, Northamptonshire and was educated at Helston Grammar School before studying at King's College London, and the University of Cambridge. 86 poems of Charles Kingsley. A harper came over the Danube so wide,And he came into Alaric's hall,And he sang the song of the little BaltungTo him and his heroes all... more », 'Watchman, what of the night? Phenomenal Woman, Still I Rise, The Road Not Taken, If You Forget Me, Dreams If you liked "The Lost Doll poem by Charles Kingsley" page. Oh, smiles cannot tellPlainer what tears are now showing too well.Had I not loved thee, my sky had been clear:... more », There is no inn in Snowdon which is not awful dear,Excepting Pen-y-gwrydd (you can't pronounce it, dear),... more », Accept this building, gracious Lord,No temple though it be;We raised it for our suffering kin,And so, Good Lord, for Thee.... more », And should she die, her grave should beUpon the bare top of a sunny hill,Among the moorlands of her own fair land,... more », Oh, forth she went like a braw, braw brideTo meet her winsome groom,When she was aware of twa bonny birdsSat biggin' in the broom.... more », Oh, I wadna be a yeoman, mither, to follow my father's trade,To bow my back in miry banks, at pleugh and hoe and spade.... more », A hasty jest I once let fall-As jests are wont to be, untrue-As if the sum of joy to you... more », She lay among the myrtles on the cliff;Above her glared the noon; beneath, the sea.Upon the white horizon Atho's peak... more », A gay young knight in Burley stood,Beside him pawed his steed so good,His hands he wrung as he were wood... more », Forward! Read more of Charles Kingsley’s Biography. about sailors from a south western English town who set sail across the Atlantic to battle with the Spanish in the Caribbean. OH, England is a pleasant place for them that ’s rich and high; But England is a cruel place for such poor folks as I; And such a port for mariners I ne’er shall see again, As the pleasant Isle of Avès, beside the Spanish main. He wrote in multiple genres, including several books for children, and was especially interested in history and sociatal standards and conditions. Life and character Kingsley was born in Holne, Devon, the second son of the Reverend Charles Kingsley and his wife Mary. Fishing Song: To J.A. Charles entered Magdalene College, Cambridge in 1838, and graduated in 1842. Charles Kingsley Poems - Poems of Charles Kingsley - Poem Hunter. His brother, Henry Kingsley, also became a novelist. Subscribe to our mailing list to get the latest and greatest poetry updates. From 1844,... more », IMy fairest child, I have no song to give you; No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey:... more », 1 When all the world is young, lad,2 And all the trees are green;3 And every goose a swan, lad,4 And every lass a queen;... more », 1 "O Mary, go and call the cattle home,2 And call the cattle home,3 And call the cattle home4 Across the sands of Dee";... more », I once had a sweet little doll, dears,The prettiest doll in the world;Her cheeks were so red and so white, dears,... more », It chanced upon the merry merry Christmas eve,I went sighing past the church across the moorland dreary-... more », My fairest child, I have no song to give you; No lark could pipe in skies so dull and gray; Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I'll leave you, For every day.... more », See the land, her Easter keeping, Rises as her Maker rose. II Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long: And so make life, death, and that vast for-ever One grand, sweet song. more », Who will say the world is dying?Who will say our prime is past?Sparks from Heaven, within us lying,... more », I would have loved: there are no mates in heaven;I would be great: there is no pride in heaven;I would have sung, as doth the nightingale... more », The single eye, the daughter of the light;Well pleased to recognise in lowliest shadeSome glimmer of its parent beam, and made... more », It was an hairy oubit, sae proud he crept alang,A feckless hairy oubit, and merrily he sang-'My Minnie bad me bide at hame until I won my wings;... more », Oh, thou hadst been a wife for Shakspeare's self!No head, save some world-genius, ought to restAbove the treasures of that perfect breast,... more », It was Sir John, the fair young Priest,He strode up off the strand;But seven fisher maidens he left behind... more », There stood a low and ivied roof,As gazing rustics tell,In times of chivalry and song... more », He wiled me through the furzy croft;He wiled me down the sandy lane.He told his boy's love, soft and oft,... more », The Day of the Lord is at hand, at hand:Its storms roll up the sky:The nations sleep starving on heaps of gold;All dreamers toss and sigh;... more », Espion aile de la jeune amanteDe l'ombre des palmiers pourquoi ce cri?Laisse en paix le beau garcon plaider et vaincre-... more », So die, thou child of stormy dawn,Thou winter flower, forlorn of nurse;Chilled early by the bigot's curse,... more », See how the autumn leaves float by decaying,Down the wild swirls of the rain-swollen stream.... more », Thank God!