- Thomas, William
Pennsy-iana: A Price Guide to Pennsylvania Books
''A Tiger Cave Imprint'', Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, 1972, Wraps, , First Edition, Very Good
85 pp.+2 pp. map of the counties of Pennsylvania. Illustrations throughout. Light rubbing and aging to the corners and edges, else fine. ''Mr. William Thomas, complier of this price guide, has for some years been a dealer in books about Pennsylvania. His information on the market is the result of considerable practical experience. He has an exceptional knowledge of the variety of Pennsylvania books, of their individual peculiarities and reliability, of their relative scarcity and of their relative usefulness in scholarly research. The present guide is directed essentially toward pricing scholarly, historical, biographical and geographical works. The more than 1000 titles included here encompass those publications which are old, out of print and sometimes scarce. Excluded from this price guide are books whose rarity makes it unlikely that they will come into the average dealer's hands. Also excluded from this guide are the numerous books, both common and rare, which are classified together as 'early imprints.' ''
“Most people know the legend of Thomas Chatterton -- brilliant poet who failed to make a living, starved himself to send expensive presents to his family, and died by his own hand at seventeen -- much better than his poems. Like all legends, it is partial and exaggerated, but was a powerful influence on the Romantic movement and long after. The painting "The Death of Chatterton" by Henry Wallis epitomises this reputation. His fame rests, apart from this almost unbearably romantic life story, on his "Rowley Poems". These he wrote in a sham Middle English dialect, and passed off as the work of Thomas Rowley, a priest of Bristol in the fifteenth century, and some of his friends. The imposture was quickly detected (though some continued to believe in him for many years), but they were published in a collected edition after his death and were popular and much admired by the Romantic poets, especially Wordsworth, Shelley, and Keats, who dedicated "Endymion" to the memory of Thomas Chatterton.”
Into very many Received
And commonly presumed
By Thomas Brown Knight, M. D.
Based on The Sixth and Last Edition of 1672
Thomas Brown’s Vulgar Errors treats the opposite of orthodoxy, pseudodoxy. An intelligent and readable presentation of an amusing classic.
“Throughout his political career Hopkinson wrote poetry and satire on the politically derisive issues of the day. He penned a popular and humorous work on the 1787 Constitutional Convention. He was also an accomplished harpsichordist and composer. His work "My Days Have Been So Wondrous Free," set to the words of Thomas Parnell's "Love and Innocence," is the first extant secular song by a native American composer.”
AN ODE ON THE SPRING
Lo! where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic warbler pours her throat Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring: While, whispering pleasure as they fly, Cool Zephyrs through the clear blue sky Their gathered fragrance fling. Where'er the oak's thick branches stretch A broader browner shade, Where'er the rude and moss-grown beech O'er-canopies the glade, Beside some water's rushy brink With me the Muse shall sit, and think (At ease reclined in rustic state) How vain the ardor of the crowd, How low, how little are the proud, How indigent the great! Still is the toiling hand of Care: The panting herds repose: Yet, hark, how through the peopled air The busy murmur glows! The insect-youth are on the wing, Eager to taste the honied spring And float amid the liquid noon; Some lightly o'er the current skim, Some show their gaily-gilded trim Quick-glancing to the sun. To Contemplation's sober eye Such is the race of Man: And they that creep, and they that fly, Shall end where they began. Alike the Busy and the Gay But flutter through life's little day, In Fortune's varying colors dressed: Brushed by the hand of rough Mischance, Or chilled by Age, their airy dance They leave, in dust to rest. Methinks I hear, in accents low, The sportive kind reply: Poor moralist! and what art thou? A solitary fly! Thy joys no glittering female meets, No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets, No painted plumage to display; On hasty wings thy youth is flown; Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone - We frolic, while 'tis May.Thomas Gray [1716-1771]