http://www.archive.org/details/poemsmary00sewerich
look at those subscribers! Mrs. Mary YOUNG Sewell, poems of 1803, found by accident
looking for the poems of travel writer mrs mary boddington, already discovered:
Lee O'Brien - Reading/Writing the Forgotten: The Poetry of Mary Boddington - Victorian Poetry 41:4 Victorian Poetry 41.4 (2003) 473-481 Reading/Writing the Forgotten: The Poetry of Mary Boddington Lee O'brien For if it is rash to walk into a lion's den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlantic in a rowing boat, rash to stand on one foot on the top of St Paul's, it is still more rash to go home alone with a poet. ---Virginia Woolf, Orlando I first encountered the work of forgotten women poets when, as research assistant to Virginia Blain in 1994, I sat down in front of a microfiche reader to prepare reports on the dazzling, and somewhat daunting, number of writers sitting quietly in bright red boxes on the shelves of Fisher Library in the University of Sydney, Australia. Anyone who has done it can attest to the fact that reading poetry on microfiche is not the most alluring of reading scenes, but even in that unsympathetic environment the power of these women's words was compelling; they have haunted me ever since. The historical irony of the situation was not lost on me: a technical, electronic revolution the Victorians set in motion, but did not foresee, has fetched them -- all of them, it seems, who put pen to paper -- from the bowels of the British Library to hurl them half way across the world so that people like me, who have never polluted the shades of reading rooms in the northern hemisphere, can read them without so much as a grain of dust or...
look at those subscribers! Mrs. Mary YOUNG Sewell, poems of 1803, found by accident
looking for the poems of travel writer mrs mary boddington, already discovered:
Lee O'Brien - Reading/Writing the Forgotten: The Poetry of Mary Boddington - Victorian Poetry 41:4 Victorian Poetry 41.4 (2003) 473-481 Reading/Writing the Forgotten: The Poetry of Mary Boddington Lee O'brien For if it is rash to walk into a lion's den unarmed, rash to navigate the Atlantic in a rowing boat, rash to stand on one foot on the top of St Paul's, it is still more rash to go home alone with a poet. ---Virginia Woolf, Orlando I first encountered the work of forgotten women poets when, as research assistant to Virginia Blain in 1994, I sat down in front of a microfiche reader to prepare reports on the dazzling, and somewhat daunting, number of writers sitting quietly in bright red boxes on the shelves of Fisher Library in the University of Sydney, Australia. Anyone who has done it can attest to the fact that reading poetry on microfiche is not the most alluring of reading scenes, but even in that unsympathetic environment the power of these women's words was compelling; they have haunted me ever since. The historical irony of the situation was not lost on me: a technical, electronic revolution the Victorians set in motion, but did not foresee, has fetched them -- all of them, it seems, who put pen to paper -- from the bowels of the British Library to hurl them half way across the world so that people like me, who have never polluted the shades of reading rooms in the northern hemisphere, can read them without so much as a grain of dust or...
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