Who is Phineas Fletcher

Phineas Fletcher (8 April 1582 – 13 December 1650) was an English poet, elder son of Dr Giles Fletcher, and brother of Giles the Younger. He was born at Cranbrook, Kent, and was baptized on 8 April 1582.

Life

He was admitted a scholar of Eton, and in 1600 entered King's College, Cambridge. He graduated B.A. in 1604, and M.A. in 1608, and was one of the contributors to Sorrow's Joy (1603). His pastoral drama, Sicelides, or Piscatory was written (1614) for performance before James I, but only produced after the king's departure at King's College.

He had been ordained priest and before 1611 became a fellow of his college, but he left Cambridge before 1616, apparently because certain emoluments were refused him. He became chaplain to Sir Henry Willoughby, w...
Read Full Biography of Phineas Fletcher


Phineas Fletcher Poems

  • A Litany
    Drop, drop, slow tears,
    And bathe those beauteous feet
    Which brought from Heaven
    The news and Prince of Peace:...
Read All Poems


Top 10 most used topics by Phineas Fletcher

Heaven 1 Never 1 Peace 1 Mercy 1 Deep 1 Slow 1


Phineas Fletcher Quotes

Read All Quotes


Comments about Phineas Fletcher

Touretteskid083: this is my phineas and ferb oc thomas fletcher he is cool and plays guitar
Touretteskid083: this is my phineas and ferb oc thomas fletcher he is cool and plays guitar
Mujiwastesink: lawrence fletcher from phineas and ferb has a tier of his own
Touretteskid083: this is my phineas and ferb oc thomas fletcher he is cool and plays guitar
Themmb_: started my day with the food for thought that lawrence fletcher isn’t phineas’ dad. just ferb’s i’ve spent the last 10 minutes looking at him and doofenshmirtz side by side. there’s also a clip where his mum and doof dated. i…
Read All Comments


Write your comment about Phineas Fletcher


Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

Read complete poem

Popular Poets