Thomas Hood Quotes

Thus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks:—
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Ruth (l. 15-16). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
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She stood breast high amid the corn, Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Ruth (l. 1-2). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
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There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea, Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. Silence (l. 1-4). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
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One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair!
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. The Bridge of Sighs (l. 1-8). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
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We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. The Death-Bed (l. 11-12). . . Oxford Book of English Verse, The, 1250-1918. Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. (New ed., rev. and enl., 1939) Oxford University Press.
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The Critic spits on what is done,— Gives it a wipe,—and all is gone.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. The Poet's Fate (l. 3-4). . . Faber Book of Epigrams and Epitaphs, The. Geoffrey Grigson, ed. (1977) Faber and Faber; Faber Book of Irish Verse, The. (1974) Faber and Faber (This book is the same as The Book of Irish Verse [BIrV]); Faber Book of Love Poems, The. (1975) Faber and Faber (This book is the same as The Gambit Book of Love Poems [GBL]).
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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,
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. The Song of the Shirt (l. 1-6). . . Faber Popular Reciter, The. Kingsley Amis, ed. (1978) Faber and Faber.
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Oh, God! that bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap!
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. repr. In Complete Poetical Works, ed. Walter Jerrold (1906). The Song of the Shirt, st. 5 (1843).
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Work—work—work, In the dull December light, And work—work—work, When the weather is warm and bright— While underneath the eaves The brooding swallows cling As if to show me their sunny backs And twit me with the spring.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. repr. In Complete Poetical Works, ed. Walter Jerrold (1906). The Song of the Shirt, st. 8 (1843).
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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.
Thomas Hood (1799-1845), British poet. The Song of the Shirt (l. 27-32). . . Faber Popular Reciter, The. Kingsley Amis, ed. (1978) Faber and Faber.
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