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From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Thomas Kibble Hervey (February 4, 1799, Paisley – February 27, 1859, Kentish Town) was a British poet and critic.

Thomas Kibble Hervey was raised in Manchester and educated at Manchester Grammar School. He entered Caius College, Cambridge in 1822, but migrated to Trinity College the following year. Articled to a firm of Manchester solicitors, he studied for the bar but was not called.[1] While at Cambridge he began a lengthy career as a leading contributor to the Athenaeum in 1828, and published Australia, a poem (1824) and Prometheus (1832). He later edited Friendship's Offering (1826-27), and the Amaranth (1839); contributed to annuals; edited the Athenaeum (May 23, 1846 to December 1853).

On October 17, 1843, he married Eleanora Louisa Montagu, a playwright and also authoress and poet.

He died in Kentish Town, London and was buried in Highgate Cemetery.

Other works

  • The poetical sketch book (1829)
  • The book of Christmas (1837)
  • The English Helicon (1841)
  • The poems of T. K. Hervey, edited by his wife with a memoir (1866)


  1. ^ Hervey, Thomas Kibble in Venn, J. & J. A., Alumni Cantabrigienses, Cambridge University Press, 10 vols, 1922–1958.

External links


Up to date as of January 14, 2010

From Wikiquote

Thomas Kibble Hervey (February 4, 1799February 27, 1859) was a British poet and critic.


  • Wake, soldier, wake, thy war-horse waits
    To bear thee to the battle back;
    Thou slumberest at a foeman’s gates,—
    Thy dog would break thy bivouac;
    Thy plume is trailing in the dust
    And thy red falchion gathering rust.
    • The dead Trumpeter.
  • Gayly we glide in the gaze of the world
    With streamers afloat and with canvas unfurled,
    All gladness and glory to wandering eyes,
    Yet chartered by sorrow and freighted with sighs.
    • The convict Ship.

The Devil's Progress (1849)

  • The tomb of him who would have made
    The world too glad and free.
  • He stood beside a cottage lone
    And listened to a lute,
    One summer’s eve, when the breeze was gone,
    And the nightingale was mute.
  • A love that took an early root,
    And had an early doom.
  • Like ships, that sailed for sunny isles,
    But never came to shore.
  • A Hebrew knelt in the dying light,
    His eye was dim and cold,
    The hairs on his brow were silver-white,
    And his blood was thin and old.

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