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I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous boy, The sleepless soul that perished in his pride; Of him who walked in glory and in joy, Following his plough, along the mountain-side. By our own spirits we are deified; We Poets in our youth begin in gladness, But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.
Provenance
Type:
Book
Confidence:
0.85
Indexed:
2026-07-04
Hash:
6ffe48108998258cb9864829617515c0438e3782539850613a4c3513af33708b
public domain

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 9th ed. (Little, Brown, 1905), public domain

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