The Works of Thomas Hood, Volume 1Putnam, 1864 - English poetry |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 40
Page xiii
... sorrow for taking the conceit ' out of one , my vanity did not pre- sume to think , with certain juvenile Tracticians , that I had a call ' to hold forth in print for the edification of mankind . Perchance , the very deep reverence my ...
... sorrow for taking the conceit ' out of one , my vanity did not pre- sume to think , with certain juvenile Tracticians , that I had a call ' to hold forth in print for the edification of mankind . Perchance , the very deep reverence my ...
Page 29
... sorrow must : We ruminate no sage's solemn cud , But own ourselves a pinch of lively dust -- To frisk upon a wind , whereas the flood Of tears would turn us into heavy mud . " Beshrew those sad interpreters of nature , Who gloze her ...
... sorrow must : We ruminate no sage's solemn cud , But own ourselves a pinch of lively dust -- To frisk upon a wind , whereas the flood Of tears would turn us into heavy mud . " Beshrew those sad interpreters of nature , Who gloze her ...
Page 43
Thomas Hood Epes Sargent. HERO AND LEANDER . O BARDS of old ! what sorrows have ye sung . And tragic stories , chronicled in stone , - Sad Philomel restored her ravished tongue , And transformed Niobe in dumbness shown ; Sweet Sappho on ...
Thomas Hood Epes Sargent. HERO AND LEANDER . O BARDS of old ! what sorrows have ye sung . And tragic stories , chronicled in stone , - Sad Philomel restored her ravished tongue , And transformed Niobe in dumbness shown ; Sweet Sappho on ...
Page 51
... sorrow in a tear - drop's span . A moment's thinking is an hour in words , - An hour of words is little for some woes ; Too little breathing a long life affords , For love to paint itself by perfect shows ; Then let his love and grief ...
... sorrow in a tear - drop's span . A moment's thinking is an hour in words , - An hour of words is little for some woes ; Too little breathing a long life affords , For love to paint itself by perfect shows ; Then let his love and grief ...
Page 59
... sorrow of that deadly learning Ploughs up her brow , like an untimely age , And on her cheek stamps verdict of death's truth By canker blights upon the bud of youth ! For as unwholesome winds decay the leaf , So her cheeks ' rose is ...
... sorrow of that deadly learning Ploughs up her brow , like an untimely age , And on her cheek stamps verdict of death's truth By canker blights upon the bud of youth ! For as unwholesome winds decay the leaf , So her cheeks ' rose is ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Aram beneath bird blood bloom breath BRIDGE OF SIGHS bright brow cheeks cloud cold crooked dame dance dark dead deaf dear death dream earth Eugene Aram eyes face fair fairy fancy fear flowers gaze gentle gloomy gold gone green grief gusset hand hath head heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER hollow Hood horrid human hung Knaresborough light limbs lips living look Love's Lycus Meanwhile Miss Kilmansegg moon morning murmured mystery the spirit Nelly Gray never night Number o'er Otto of Roses pale perchance plain as whisper poor raining music Ramsgill rich rose round Sally Brown seemed senseless thing shadows shine sighs sing sleep smiles solemn song sorrow soul sound spirit daunted sudden fear sweet tears thee There's thing Thomas Hood thou thought thrush tree turned voice walk wave weep Whilst wild wind wings workhouse young zounds
Popular passages
Page 179 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER" 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 roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups — Those flowers made of light!
Page 178 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER. 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...
Page 147 - 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, — Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this " Song of the Shirt !
Page 149 - Oh! but to breathe the breath Of the cowslip and primrose sweet. With the sky above my head. And the grass beneath my feet ; For only one short hour To feel as I used to feel, Before I knew the woes of want And the walk that costs a meal!
Page 143 - Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing,— Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; ' Not of the stains of her— All that remains of her Now, is pure womanly.
Page 146 - Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, Decently, — kindly, — Smooth and compose them ; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly ! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity.
Page 144 - Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet than all other?
Page 306 - Gold! gold! gold! gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold, Molten, graven, hammered and rolled ; Heavy to get, and light to hold ; Hoarded, bartered, bought, and sold, Stolen, borrowed, squandered, doled : Spurned by the young, but hugged by the old To the very verge of the church-yard mould ; Price of many a crime untold : Gold!
Page 109 - One stern tyrannic thought that made All other thoughts its slave; Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave, — Still urging me to go and see The dead man in his grave...
Page 164 - Alas, alas, fair Ines, She went away with song, With Music waiting on her steps, And shoutings of the throng; But some were sad, and felt no mirth, But only Music's wrong, In sounds that sang Farewell, Farewell, To her you've loved so long.