The Poetical Works of Thomas HoodWard, Lock, 1880 - 475 páginas |
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Página 12
... morning cloud , When vanish'd larks are carolling above , To wake Apollo with their pipings loud ; -- If ever thou hast heard in leafy shroud The sweet and plaintive Sappho of the deli Show thy sweet mercy on this little crowd , And we ...
... morning cloud , When vanish'd larks are carolling above , To wake Apollo with their pipings loud ; -- If ever thou hast heard in leafy shroud The sweet and plaintive Sappho of the deli Show thy sweet mercy on this little crowd , And we ...
Página 35
... morning incense to the early skies , Crept o'er the failing landscape of my dream . Soon faded then the Phantom of my theme- A shapeless shade , that fancy disavow'd , And shrank to nothing in the mist extreme . Then flew Titania , -and ...
... morning incense to the early skies , Crept o'er the failing landscape of my dream . Soon faded then the Phantom of my theme- A shapeless shade , that fancy disavow'd , And shrank to nothing in the mist extreme . Then flew Titania , -and ...
Página 49
... morning ( at the day don't fret ) - In riding with a friend to Ponder's End Outside the stage , we happen'd to commend A certain mansion that we saw To Let . " Ay , " cried our coachman , with our talk to grapple , " You're right ! no ...
... morning ( at the day don't fret ) - In riding with a friend to Ponder's End Outside the stage , we happen'd to commend A certain mansion that we saw To Let . " Ay , " cried our coachman , with our talk to grapple , " You're right ! no ...
Página 51
... morning , as I went From Liege's lovely environs to Ghent , If hard by the wayside I found a cross , That made me breathe a pray'r upon the spot- While Nature of herself , as if to trace The emblem's use , had trail'd around its base ...
... morning , as I went From Liege's lovely environs to Ghent , If hard by the wayside I found a cross , That made me breathe a pray'r upon the spot- While Nature of herself , as if to trace The emblem's use , had trail'd around its base ...
Página 55
... morning , in my usual rambles , Passing along Whitechapel's ancient shambles , Where meat was hung in many a joint and quarter , I had to halt awhile , like other folks , To let a killing butcher coax A score of lambs and fatted sheep ...
... morning , in my usual rambles , Passing along Whitechapel's ancient shambles , Where meat was hung in many a joint and quarter , I had to halt awhile , like other folks , To let a killing butcher coax A score of lambs and fatted sheep ...
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Términos y frases comunes
beauty bird blood breath bright brow call'd cheek cloth gilt clouds cold Coloured Frontispiece Coloured Illustrations DALZIEL Brothers dark dead dear Death doth dream earth Edition Engravings eyes face fairy fancy Fcap fear flowers French morocco gaze gentle gilt edges gloomy gold Golden Leg grave green Gretna Green grief GUSTAVE DORÉ hand hath head heart heaven Hood Hood's horrid horse Huggins John Huggins JULES VERNE light living LOCK London look look'd Lycus merry mine-a Miss Kilmansegg moon morning morocco never night o'er once perchance Peter Stone Poems poet POETICAL poor Quoth raining music rose round Salisbury Square Sally Brown seem'd shine sighs sing song soon sorrow soul stood sweet tears thee There's thing THOMAS HOOD thou thought thro took tree turn'd Twas wave weep Whilst WILLIAM MICHAEL ROSSETTI wings
Pasajes populares
Página 180 - Work ! work ! work ! Till the brain begins to swim ; Work ! work ! work ! Till the eyes are heavy and dim ! 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 183 - 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.
Página 179 - 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 " Song of the Shirt !
Página 1 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. 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 hurl'd— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
Página 183 - Work - work - work! From weary chime to chime, Work - work - work As prisoners work for crime! Band, and gusset, and seam, Seam, and gusset, and band, Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumb'd, As well as the weary hand.
Página 178 - Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould ; Price of many a crime untold ; Gold ! -Gold ! Gold ! Gold...
Página 193 - The swallows all have wing'd across the main; But here the autumn Melancholy dwells, And sighs her tearful spells Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain. Alone, alone, Upon a mossy stone, She sits and reckons up the dead and gone With the last leaves for a love-rosary...
Página xxxv - 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! "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...
Página 346 - His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch heaven's blessed breeze; For a burning thought was in his brow, And his bosom ill at ease: So he leaned his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees.
Página 347 - 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 ; And how the sprites of injured men Shriek upward from the sod, — Aye, how the ghostly hand will point To show the burial clod...