Biography of Thomas Parnell
Thomas Parnell (11 September 1679 – 24 October 1718) was an Anglo-Irish poet and clergyman who was a friend of both Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift.
He was the son of Thomas Parnell of Maryborough, Queen's County (now Port Laoise, County Laoise), a prosperous landowner who had been a loyal supporter of Cromwell during the English Civil War and moved to Ireland after the restoration of the monarchy. Thomas was educated at Trinity College, Dublin and collated archdeacon of Clogher in 1705.
He however spent much of his time in London, where he participated with Pope, Swift and others in the Scriblerus Club, contributing to The Spectator and aiding Pope in his translation of The Iliad. He was also one of the so-called "Graveyard poets": his 'A Night-Piece on Death,' widely considered the first "Graveyard School" poem, was published posthumously in Poems on Several Occasions, collected and edited by Alexander Pope and is thought by some scholars to have been published in December 1721 (although dated in 1722 on its title page, the year accepted by The Concise Oxford Chronology of English Literature; see 1721 in poetry, 1722 in poetry). It is said of his poetry, "it was in keeping with his character, easy and pleasing, enunciating the common places with felicity and grace."
He died in Chester in 1718 on his way home to Ireland. His wife and children having died, his Laoise estate passed to his brother John, a judge and MP in the Irish House of Commons and the ancestor of Charles Stewart Parnell.
Oliver Goldsmith wrote a biography of Parnell which often accompanied later editions of Parnell's works.
- Essay on the Different Stiles of Poetry (1713)
- Battle of the Frogs and Mice (1717 translation in heroic couplets of a comic epic then attributed to Homer)
An example of his poetry is the opening stanza of his poem The Hermit:
Far in the wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a revered hermit grew.
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well.
Remote from man with God he passed his days
Prayer all his business, all his pleasure, praise.
Poem of the dayThe Weeping Cherry
by Robert Herrick
I saw a cherry weep, and why?
Why wept it? but for shame
Because my Julia's lip was by,
And did out-red the same.
But, pretty fondling, let not fall
A tear at all for that:
Which rubies, corals, scarlets, all
For tincture wonder at.
Read complete poem