The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, with a Biographical Sketch |
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Page xxi
... feeling and pathos of a natural poet have descended into the grave ; and left those who knew , admired , and loved these qualities , to feel and de- plore the loss of him in whom they were so LIFE OF HOOD . xxi.
... feeling and pathos of a natural poet have descended into the grave ; and left those who knew , admired , and loved these qualities , to feel and de- plore the loss of him in whom they were so LIFE OF HOOD . xxi.
Page xxiii
... feel that , if ever there was a character of simplicity and humility , it was that of the late Mr. Thomas Hood ; and it would not become us , on the present occa- sion , to indulge in eulogies which , if he were here himself , would be ...
... feel that , if ever there was a character of simplicity and humility , it was that of the late Mr. Thomas Hood ; and it would not become us , on the present occa- sion , to indulge in eulogies which , if he were here himself , would be ...
Page xxvii
... feel that in so doing we have not done honor to him , but to ourselves . I remember that at the time of his fatal illness I was very much haunted with the recollection of some lines of his , which , I dare say , some of you remember ...
... feel that in so doing we have not done honor to him , but to ourselves . I remember that at the time of his fatal illness I was very much haunted with the recollection of some lines of his , which , I dare say , some of you remember ...
Page 2
... feeling towards me , I desire to record a respect and admiration for you as a writer , which no one acquainted with our literature , save Elia himself , will think disproportionate or misplaced . If I had not these better reasons to ...
... feeling towards me , I desire to record a respect and admiration for you as a writer , which no one acquainted with our literature , save Elia himself , will think disproportionate or misplaced . If I had not these better reasons to ...
Page 6
... feel some dark misgivings of our fate . " And this dull day my melancholy sleep Hath been so thronged with images of woe , That even now I cannot choose but weep To think this was some sad prophetic show Of future horror to befall us so ...
... feel some dark misgivings of our fate . " And this dull day my melancholy sleep Hath been so thronged with images of woe , That even now I cannot choose but weep To think this was some sad prophetic show Of future horror to befall us so ...
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Common terms and phrases
beauty bird blood bloom blue breath bright brow Charles Lamb cheeks cloud cold crooked dame dance dark dead deaf dear death dream earth elves Eugene Aram eyes face fair fairy fancy fear flowers gaze gentle gloom gold Gold Sticks Golden Leg green grief hair hand hath head heard heart heaven HERO AND LEANDER horrid human hung kiss leaves light limbs lips living look Love's lullaby Lycus Meanwhile Miss Kilmansegg moon morn Nelly Gray never night Number o'er once Otto of Roses pale perchance pity poor raining music rich rose Rotterdam round Sally Brown Saturn seemed shade shadows shine sighs sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spirit sweet tears tender thee There's thing Thomas Hood thou thought thrush tree trumpet turned vext voice wave weep Wherefore Whilst wild wind wings young zounds
Popular passages
Page xxvii - We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. ' So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. ' Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. ' For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
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 149 - 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
Page 146 - Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran, — Over the brink of it : Picture it,- — think of it, Dissolute man ! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care ; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly Decently, — kindly, — Smooth and compose them...
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...
Page 106 - The Usher took six hasty strides, As smit with sudden pain, Six hasty strides beyond the place, Then slowly back again; And down he sat beside the lad, And talked with him of Cain; And, long since then, of bloody men, Whose deeds tradition saves; Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And hid in sudden graves; Of horrid stabs, in groves forlorn, And murders done in caves...
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...
Page 164 - I saw thee, lovely Ines, Descend along the shore, With bands of noble gentlemen, And banners waved before; And gentle youth and maidens gay, And snowy plumes they wore; It would have been a beauteous dream, If it had been no more!
Page 170 - I SAW old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn ; — Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
Page 392 - Nelly Gray! Is this your love so warm? The love that loves a scarlet coat Should be more uniform.