The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Hood

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H. Frowde, 1906 - 773 páginas

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Página 644 - Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses, Where was her home ? 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? Alas ! for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun ! Oh ! it was pitiful ! Near a whole city full, Home she had none.
Página 621 - 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...
Página 621 - Seam, and gusset, and band, Band, and gusset, and seam, Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! 'Oh, Men, with Sisters dear! Oh, Men, with Mothers and Wives! It is not linen you're wearing out But human creatures
Página 621 - 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.
Página 528 - Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Página 736 - SPAKE full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Página 644 - 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...
Página 529 - 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.
Página 753 - A whole assembly worship thee ! At once they sing, at once they pray, They hear of heaven and learn the way. 2 I have been there, and still would go, 'Tis like a little heaven below : Not all my pleasure and my play, Shall tempt me to forget this day.
Página 621 - Work ! work ! work ! My labour never flags ; and what are its wages ? A bed of straw, a crust of bread — and rags. That shattered roof and this naked floor, a table, a broken chair, and a wall so blank, my shadow I thank for sometimes falling there.

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