Thomas Hood Quotes

A certain portion of the human race Has certainly a taste for being diddled.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. A Black Job.
(32) (13)
The best of friends fall out, and so His teeth had done some years ago.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. A True Story.
(29) (11)
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like Silence, listening To silence,
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Autumn (l. 1-3). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
(31) (8)
Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Faithless Nelly Gray (l. 1-4). . . New Oxford Book of English Light Verse, The. Kingsley Amis, ed. (1978) Oxford University Press.
(34) (6)
O, Nelly Gray! O, Nelly Gray! Is this your love so warm? The love that loves a scarlet coat Should be more uniform!
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. repr. In Complete Poetical Works, ed. Walter Jerrold (1906). Faithless Nelly Gray (1826).
(11) (3)
And then in the fulness of joy and hope, Seemed washing his hands with invisible soap, In imperceptible water.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. "Her Christening," Miss Kilmansegg (1841-1843).
(8) (1)
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. repr. In Complete Poetical Works, ed. Walter Jerrold (1906). I Remember, st. 1 (1827).
(15) (3)
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 further off from Heaven Than when I was a boy.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. I Remember, I Remember (l. 25-32). . . New Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1950. Helen Gardner, ed. (1972) Oxford University Press.
(16) (2)
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds—November!
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. No! (L. 22-23). . . Fireside Book of Humorous Poetry, The. William Cole, ed. (1959) Simon and Schuster.
(15) (3)
But who would rush at a benighted man, And give him two black eyes for being blind?
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Ode to Rae Wilson.
(6) (2)