Thomas Hood

From Quotes
And you are to love those who are your aliens for you yourselves were aliens in Egypt. [Deuteronomy 10:19]
Bible
Jump to: navigation, search
Thomas Hood, British humorist and poet

Thomas Hood (May 23, 1799 - May 3, 1845) was a English humorist and poet.

Sourced

  • His death which happened in his berth,
    At forty-odd befell:
    They went and told the sexton, and
    The sexton tolled the bell.
  • I remember, I remember
    The house where I was born,
    The little window where the sun
    Came peeping in at morn;
    He never came a wink too soon
    Nor brought too long a day;
    But now, I often wish the night
    Had borne my breath away.
  • I remember, I remember
    The fir-trees dark and high;
    I used to think their slender tops
    Were close against the sky:
    It was a childish ignorance,
    But now 'tis little joy
    To know I'm farther off from Heaven
    Than when I was a boy.
    • I Remember, I Remember, st. 4
  • And there is ev'n a happiness
    That makes the heart afraid!
  • There's not a string attuned to mirth
    But has its chord in melancholy.
    • Ode to Melancholy, st. 8
  • But evil is wrought by want of thought,
    As well as want of heart.
  • I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
    Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
    To silence.
  • Never go to France
    Unless you know the lingo,
    If you do, like me,
    You will repent, by jingo.
    • French and English, st. 1 (1839)
  • No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
    No comfortable feel in any member—
    No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
    No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds—
    November!
  • One more Unfortunate,
    Weary of breath,
    Rashly importunate,
    Gone to her death!

    Take her up tenderly,
    Lift her with care;
    Fashion'd so slenderly
    Young, and so fair!
  • Alas! for the rarity
    Of Christian charity
    Under the sun!
    • The Bridge of Sighs, st. 9

The Song of the Shirt (1843)

  • With fingers weary and worn,
    With eyelids heavy and red,
    A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
    Plying her needle and thread—
    Stitch! stitch! stitch!
    In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
    And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
    She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”
    • St. 1
  • Work! work! work!
    While the cock is crowing aloof!
    And work—work—work,
    Till the stars shine through the roof!
    • St. 2
  • Oh, Men, with Sisters dear!
    Oh, Men, with Mothers and Wives!
    It is not linen you're wearing out,
    But human creatures' lives!
    • St. 4
  • Oh, God! that bread should be so dear,
    And flesh and blood so cheap!
    • St. 5

The Dream of Eugene Aram [1]

  • 'Twas in the prime of summer-time
    An evening calm and cool,
    And four-and-twenty happy boys
    Came bounding out of school:
    There were some that ran and some that leapt,
    Like troutlets in a pool.
  • And lo! the universal air
    Seemed lit with ghastly flame;
    Ten thousand thousand dreadful eyes
    Were looking down in blame
  • My head was like an ardent coal,
    My heart as solid ice;
    My wretched, wretched soul, I knew,
    Was at the Devil's price:
    A dozen times I groaned: the dead
    Had never groaned but twice!
  • That very night while gentle sleep
    The urchin's eyelids kissed,
    Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn,
    Through the cold and heavy mist;
    And Eugene Aram walked between,
    With gyves upon his wrist.

External links

Wikipedia
Wikipedia has an article about:
Wikisource has original works written by or about: