Chatterton – an ode

As high as a cloud wandering on Bristol’s towerForever will I sing his nameFruitfully brought me to his finest hourForever a great organ plays its painWill I go no more to St Mary Redcliffe?A fine repose now in a sea of modernityIn whose gothic ramparts held religious communitySang a song worth, ten men, when Chatterton’sContinue reading “Chatterton – an ode”

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