The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Hood |
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Page 5
... short , they are your colours , Mrs. Fry ! 4 As for the naughty tinges of the prism- Crimson's the cruel uniform of war- Blue - hue of brimstone ! minds no catechism ; And green is young and gay - not noted for Goodness , or gravity ...
... short , they are your colours , Mrs. Fry ! 4 As for the naughty tinges of the prism- Crimson's the cruel uniform of war- Blue - hue of brimstone ! minds no catechism ; And green is young and gay - not noted for Goodness , or gravity ...
Page 21
... short , not to mention all plagues without number , If she wishes you all in the Wash at the Humber ! Ah , perhaps , in some moment of drowth and despair , When her linen got scarce , and her washing grew rare- When the sum of her suds ...
... short , not to mention all plagues without number , If she wishes you all in the Wash at the Humber ! Ah , perhaps , in some moment of drowth and despair , When her linen got scarce , and her washing grew rare- When the sum of her suds ...
Page 24
... short cut thro ' the collar ! 4 Hast found the way that sighs were sent to 2 The Pole - tho ' God knows whom they went to ! That track reveal'd to Pope- Or if the Arctic waters sally , Or terminate in some blind alley , A chilly path to ...
... short cut thro ' the collar ! 4 Hast found the way that sighs were sent to 2 The Pole - tho ' God knows whom they went to ! That track reveal'd to Pope- Or if the Arctic waters sally , Or terminate in some blind alley , A chilly path to ...
Page 27
... short the Methodists must choose Their dumpy envoys not to lose Their toes in spite of zeal ? 29 Whether ' twill soften or sublime it To preach of Hell in such a climate— Whether may Wesley hope 171 Towin their souls - or that old ...
... short the Methodists must choose Their dumpy envoys not to lose Their toes in spite of zeal ? 29 Whether ' twill soften or sublime it To preach of Hell in such a climate— Whether may Wesley hope 171 Towin their souls - or that old ...
Page 40
... Except , she kept each Christian high- day , And once upon a fat good Fry - day Ran short of logs , and told the Pagan That turn'd the spit , to chop up Dagon ! ' TWAS in the year two thousand and one , 40 A RECIPE - FOR CIVILIZATION.
... Except , she kept each Christian high- day , And once upon a fat good Fry - day Ran short of logs , and told the Pagan That turn'd the spit , to chop up Dagon ! ' TWAS in the year two thousand and one , 40 A RECIPE - FOR CIVILIZATION.
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Common terms and phrases
Apollonius birds blue breath bright brow Burn cheek clouds cold Comic Annual cried dark dead dear death dream drink EPIGRAM Eugene Aram eyes face fair fairy fancy farewell fear friends gaze gold golden gone grave green grief hair hand hast hath head hear heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER horse John Huggins Jonathan Blewitt Lady Lamia legs light lips live London Magazine look look'd Lord Lycius Lycus Miss moon morn ne'er never night nose Number o'er Old Bailey once poor rose round Sally Brown seem'd shine sigh sing sleep song SONNET soon sorrow soul stood sure sweet tears thee There's thing Thomas Hood thou thought thro turn turn'd Twas wave weep Whilst wild wind wings wretched young Zounds ΤΟ
Popular passages
Page 623 - 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 530 - The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds...
Page 344 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While...
Page 648 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river; Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery Swift to be hurled— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world...
Page 308 - He has no children. All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam At one fell swoop?
Page 623 - O men, with sisters dear ! O men, with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out, But human creatures' lives! Stitch— stitch— stitch, In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Sewing at once, with a double thread, A shroud as well as a shirt.
Page 648 - 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 623 - 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 629 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted I PART II.
Page 531 - No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode, (There they alike in trembling hope repose) The bosom of his father and his God.