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Poems
THE OLD FISHERMAN. 'My bosom is chill'd with the cold, My limbs their lost vigour deplore! Alas! to the lonely and old, Hope warbles her promise no more! 'Worn out with the length of my way, I must rest me awhile on the beach, To feel the salt dash of the spray, If haply so far it may reach....
- GenresPoetry
70 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
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About the author
Mary Matilda Betham
8 books2 followersMary Matilda Betham, known by family and friends as Matilda Betham was an English diarist, poet, woman of letters, and miniature portrait painter.
Her niece was Matilda Betham-Edwards and they are not the same author.
wikipedia
Her niece was Matilda Betham-Edwards and they are not the same author.
wikipedia
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 3 reviews
April 7, 2019
For the poem lovers out there, this book contains a wide range of poems from sad to love poems, so good some bad but that's my point of view some people will like all the poems but there are definitely some great poems in this book and some really bad ones as well
April 13, 2023
*Published in 1808*
I read this for my chronological reading project, a book for each year of the 19th century.
~ Poems by Matilda Betham ~
Some more well-known poets of her time admired her work and I have to say that I, too, enjoyed reading this volume of Matilda Betham’s poems and songs. I'm glad I decided to read about her personal life before I read this, because it made me connect to her poems a lot more. I saw some parallels to her own life and struggles. I really like her writing style as well, so I might pick up some of her other work.
L’Homme de l’Ennui by Matilda Betham:
Forlornly I wander, forlornly I sigh,
And droop my head sadly, I cannot tell why:
When the first breeze of morning blows fresh in my face,
As the wild-waving walks of our woodlands I trace,
Reviv'd for the moment I look all around,
But my eyes soon grow languid, and fix on the ground.
I have yet no misfortune to rob me of rest,
No love discomposes the peace of my breast;
Ambition ne'er enter'd the verge of my thought,
Nor by honours, by wealth, nor by power am I caught;
Those phantoms of folly disturb not my ease,
Yet Time is a tortoise, and Life a disease.
I read this for my chronological reading project, a book for each year of the 19th century.
~ Poems by Matilda Betham ~
Some more well-known poets of her time admired her work and I have to say that I, too, enjoyed reading this volume of Matilda Betham’s poems and songs. I'm glad I decided to read about her personal life before I read this, because it made me connect to her poems a lot more. I saw some parallels to her own life and struggles. I really like her writing style as well, so I might pick up some of her other work.
L’Homme de l’Ennui by Matilda Betham:
Forlornly I wander, forlornly I sigh,
And droop my head sadly, I cannot tell why:
When the first breeze of morning blows fresh in my face,
As the wild-waving walks of our woodlands I trace,
Reviv'd for the moment I look all around,
But my eyes soon grow languid, and fix on the ground.
I have yet no misfortune to rob me of rest,
No love discomposes the peace of my breast;
Ambition ne'er enter'd the verge of my thought,
Nor by honours, by wealth, nor by power am I caught;
Those phantoms of folly disturb not my ease,
Yet Time is a tortoise, and Life a disease.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 3 reviews