Who is Nahum Tate

Nahum Tate ( NAY-əm TAYT; 1652 – 30 July 1715) was an Irish poet, hymnist and lyricist, who became Poet Laureate in 1692. Tate is best known for The History of King Lear, his 1681 adaptation of Shakespeare's King Lear, and for his libretto for Henry Purcell's opera, Dido and Aeneas.

Life

Nahum Tate was born in Dublin and came from a family of Puritan clerics. He was the son of Faithful Teate, an Irish cleric who had been rector of Castleterra, Ballyhaise, until his house was burnt and his family attacked after he had passed on information to the government about plans for the Irish Rebellion of 1641.

After living at the provost's lodgings in Trinity College Dublin, Faithful Teate moved to England. He was the incumbent at East Greenwich around 1650, and...
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Nahum Tate Poems

  • Christmas
    While shepherds watched their flocks by night,
    All seated on the ground,
    The angel of the Lord came down,
    And glory shone around....
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Top 10 most used topics by Nahum Tate

Earth 1 Joyful 1 View 1 High 1 Glad 1 Bring 1 Mind 1 Town 1 Great 1 Good 1


Nahum Tate Quotes

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Comments about Nahum Tate

Butnottherapper: wait until he hears what nahum tate did to shakespeare
Bostoncamerata: prof. ellen harris talks about the influence of shakespeare's macbeth on librettist nahum tate as he adapted virgil's original story into the dido & aeneas we know and love today:
Clearshakes: nahum tate, the chatgpt of restoration england.
Drcisco: literalmente sim. desde sempre. por exemplo: "in the 18th century, authors began to reinterpret and adapt shakespeare's plays through text and performance, producing such intriguing versions as 'the enchanted isle' and nahum tate's 'king lear'."
Erdmuted: all those pearl clutching at the re writing of dahl's stories should reflect that thomas bowdler in the 18thcent.expurgated gibbons rise & fall & made changes to shakespeare. even before then nahum tate poet laureate rewrote king lear,for a happy ending.
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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,
...

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