Who is Frederic William Moorman

Frederic William Moorman (1872–1919) was a poet and playwright, and Professor of English Language at the University of Leeds from 1912 to 1918.

Biography

Moorman grew up in Devon. He married Frances Beatrice Humpidge (1867–1956) and was the father of John Moorman, who would become Bishop of Ripon.

Career

Academic and Writing

Following university study in Strasbourg, Moorman joined the staff of the Yorkshire College, Leeds in 1898; the Yorkshire College subsequently became the University of Leeds in 1904. When a new Chair was instituted in 1912, Moorman was appointed the university's first Professor of English Language.

Moorman edited the 1912 edition of Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale for the Arden Shakespeare p...
Read Full Biography of Frederic William Moorman


Frederic William Moorman Poems

  • The Bride's Homecomming
    A weddin', a woo,
    A clog an' a shoe,
    A pot full o' porridge; away we go!
    A Yorkshire Wedding-Rhyme. ...
  • Lord George
    These verses were written soon after the Old Age Pensions Bill came into operation.


    I'd walk frae here to Skipton, ...
  • A Dalesman's Litany
    From Hull, Halifax, and Hell, good Lord deliver us.
    A Yorkshire Proverb.

    ...
  • The Gardener And The Robin
    Why! Bobbie, so thou's coom agean!
    I'm fain to see thee here;
    It's lang sin I've set een on thee,
    It's ommost hauf a yeer. ...
  • The New Englishman
    I've lived all my life i' Keighley,
    I'm a Yorkshire artisan;
    An' when I were just turned seventy
    I became an Englishman. ...
Read All Poems


Top 10 most used topics by Frederic William Moorman

Face 7 Church 6 Hear 6 Black 5 Year 5 Sweet 5 Door 5 Young 4 Clear 4 Floor 4


Frederic William Moorman Quotes

Read All Quotes


Comments about Frederic William Moorman

Read All Comments


Write your comment about Frederic William Moorman


Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Melville And Coghill - The Place Of The Little Hand
 by Andrew Lang

DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.

...

Read complete poem

Popular Poets