Poems by Thomas Hood

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"No doubt the pleasure is as great,
On Hounslow Heath - and close beside the road,
When I reflect with serious sense,
"A Calendar! a Calendar! look in the Almanac, find out moonshine - find out moonshine!" - Midsummer Night's Dream.
"Sermons in stones." - As You Like It.
"Some are born with a wooden spoon in their mouths,
Thou happy, happy elf!
"Sweet Memory, wafted by thy gentle gale,
"Do you never deviate?"
"Sit down and fall to, said the Barmecide."
"Blow high, blow low." - SEA SONG.
There's some is born with their straight legs by natur -
"Lullaby, oh, lullaby!"
"Our Crummie is a dainty cow." - Scotch Song.
'Twas August - Hastings every day was filling -
"Old woman, old woman, will you go a-shearing?
Of all our pains, since man was curst,
To Waterloo, with sad ado,
One Sunday morning - service done -
"Archer. How many are there, Scrub?"
"It is the king's highway that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions." - BUNYAN.
"Coming events cast their shadow before."
Oh! what's befallen Bessy Brown,
The Autumn skies are flush'd with gold,
The Autumn is old,
It was not in the Winter
She's up and gone, the graceless girl,
Sigh on, sad heart, for Love's eclipse
Spring it is cheery,
Good morrow to the golden morning,
'Tis strange how like a very dunce,
One day the dreary old King of Death
"I really take it very kind,
"To point a moral." - JOHNSON.
O Saw ye not fair Ines?
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
Young Ben he was a nice young man,
Look how the lark soars upward and is gone,
I will not have the mad Clytie,
It is not with a hope my feeble praise
"Twa dogs, that were na thrang at hame,
Two swains or clowns - but call them swains -
O Kate! my dear Partner, through joy and through strife!
Giver of glowing light!
I love thee - I love thee!
I remember, I remember,
A pretty task, Miss S - - , to ask
"A Day after the Fair." - Old Proverb.
Well hast thou cried, departed Burke,
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
It's a shame, so it is, - men can't Let alone
All you that are too fond of wine,
And has the earth lost its so spacious round,
Go where the waves run rather Holborn-hilly,
(At No. 1, Newgate. Favored by Mr. Wontner.)
Let us make a leap, my dear,
'Twas in the middle of the night,
Unfathomable Night! how dost thou sweep
Let Taylor preach upon a morning breezy
"By the North Pole, I do challenge thee!"
"This fellow's wise enough to play the fool,
Come, let us set our careful breasts,
"Up with me! - up with me into the sky!"
Oh Peace, oh come with me and dwell -
MY DEAR SIR - The following Ode was written anticipating the tone of
"Martin in this has proved himself a very good man!"
"At certain seasons he makes a prodigious clattering with his bill." - SELBY.
"Sweeping our flocks and herds." - DOUGLAS.
"O breathe not his name!" - Moore.
Author Of "The Cook's Oracle," "Observations On Vocal Music," "The Art Of Invigorating And Prolonging Life," "Practical Observations On Telescopes, Opera-Glasses, And Spectacles," "The Housekeeper's Ledger," And "The Pleasure Of Making A Will."
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Our village, that's to say, not Miss Mitford's village, but our village of Bullock Smithy,
"Who'll serve the King?"
A little fairy comes at night,
Well, the country's a pleasant place, sure enough, for people that's country born,
She stood breast high amid the corn
"He left his body to the sea,
Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how
"The charge is prepar'd." - Macheath.
O Lady, leave thy silken thread
The stars are with the voyager
There is dew for the flow'ret[1]
Shall I rebuke thee, Ocean, my old love,
By ev'ry sweet tradition of true hearts,
Love, dearest Lady, such as I would speak,
My heart is sick with longing, tho' I feed
The world is with me, and its many cares,
It is not death, that sometime in a sigh
No popular respect will I omit
Look how the golden ocean shines above
There is a silence where hath been no sound,
Young ardent soul, graced with fair Nature's truth,
The curse of Adam, the old curse of all,
How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky
I saw pale Dian, sitting by the brink
Farewell, Life! My senses swim,
Is there a bitter pang for love removed,
"Resigned, I kissed the rod."
"Now's the time and now's the hour," - BURNS.
My pipe is lit, my grog is mix'd,
"Drown'd! drown'd!" - Hamlet.
What's life but full of care and doubt
I sawe a Mayd sitte on a Bank,
Good-Morning, Mr. What-d'ye-call! Well! here's another pretty job!
"The Needles have sometimes been fatal to Mariners."
We watch'd her breathing through the night.
'Twas off the Wash - the sun went down - the sea look'd black and grim,
Summer is gone on swallows' wings,
"Fly to the desert, fly with me." - LADY HESTER STANHOPE.
Amongst the sights that Mrs. Bond
"Like the two Kings of Brentford smelling at one nosegay."
"And this our life, exempt from public haunt,
"I am, Sir,"
The swallow with summer
"Down, down, down, ten thousand fathoms deep."
"Who's here, beside foul weather?" - KING LEAR.
"Vell! Here I am - no Matter how it suits
The dead are in their silent graves,
Speaking within compass, as to fabulousness I prefer
"I'll be your second." - LISTON.
Tom Simpson was as nice a kind of man
"A jolly place, said he, in days of old,
"On the east coast, towards Tunis, the Moors still preserve the key of their ancestors' houses in Spain; to which country they still express the hopes of one day returning and again planting the crescent on the ancient walls of the Alhambra." - SCOTT
The lady lay in her bed,
A spade! a rake! a hoe!
Sleet! and Hail! and Thunder!
"Oh where, and oh where
Lov'st thou not, Alice, with the early tide
"Alas! what perils do environ
Full of drink and full of meat,
But a bold pheasantry, their country's pride
What is a mine - a treasury - a dower -
Oh happy time! - Art's early days!
- - Methought I saw
With fingers weary and worn,
Scheherazade immediately began the following story.
The sun was slumbering in the West.
"Oh flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!" - MERCUTIO
"I like to meet a sweep - such as come forth with the dawn, or somewhat earlier, with their little professional notes, sounding like the peep, peep, of a young sparrow."
"A plague o' both the houses!" - MERCUTIO.
"The clashing of my armor in my ears
Alas, the moon should ever beam
Farewell, farewell, to my mother's own daughter.
It was a merry company,
One widow at a grave will sob
There's a murmur in the air,
Those evening bells, those evening bells,
Tim Turpin he was gravel blind,
I heard a gentle maiden, in the spring,
Composed At Rotterdam.
Welcome, dear Heart, and a most kind good-morrow;
Love thy mother, little one!
Lady, wouldst thou heiress be
Our hands have met, but not our hearts;
Oh, 'tis a touching thing, to make one weep, -
Thine eyelids slept so beauteously, I deem'd
O'er hill, and dale, and distant sea,
Most delicate Ariel! submissive thing,
When little people go abroad, wherever they may roam,
Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp,
Mary, you know I've no love nonsense,
Dear Fanny! nine long years ago,
Far above the hollow