The Works of Thomas Hood

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Page 82 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle. To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die ! Now too — the joy most like divine Of all I ever dreamt or knew.
Page 201 - Sae true his heart, sae smooth his speech, His breath like caller air ; His very foot has music in't As he comes up the stair — And will I see his face again ? And will I hear him speak? I'm downright dizzy wi...
Page 200 - Peregrine and Gauntlet heard the sound of the stump, ascending the wooden staircase with such velocity, that they at first mistook it for the application of drumsticks to the head of an empty barrel. This uncommon speed, however, was attended with a misfortune; he chanced to overlook a small defect in one of the steps, and his prop plunging into a hole, he fell backwards, to the imminent danger of his life.
Page 28 - A decent elderly body, in decayed sables, undertook, on her part, to promote the comforts of the occupants by every suitable attention, and, as she assured me, at a very reasonable rate. So far, the nocturnal faculty had served me truly. A day-dream could not have proceeded more orderly: but alas!
Page 275 - What noise is this ? who calls Hieronimo ? " May it be done ? Pain. Yea, sir. Hier. Well, sir ; then bring me forth, bring me through alley and alley, still with a distracted countenance going along, and let my hair heave up my night-cap. Let the clouds scowl, make the moon dark, the stars extinct, the winds blowing, the bells tolling, the owls shrieking, the toads croaking, the minutes jarring, and the clock striking twelve.
Page 274 - To be too confident, is as unjust In any work, as too much to distrust ; Who from the laws of study have not swerv'd, Know begg'd applauses never were deserv'd. We must submit to censure : so doth he, Whose hours begot this issue ; yet, being free For his part, if he have not pleas'd you, then In this kind he'll not trouble you again...
Page 267 - Sticker, especially — in his most temperate moments a perfect skyblue-bodied red-faced, bowing and smirking pattern of politeness to females, was now, under the influence of good ale, a very Sir Calidore, ready to comfort and succour distressed damsels, to fight for them, live or die for them, with as much of the chivalrous spirit as remains in our times. They inquired, and I explained in a few words the lady's dilemma, taking care to forewarn them, by relating the issue of my own attempts in her...

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