Thomas Hood
Thomas Hood
Thomas Hoodwas an English poet, author and humourist, best known for poems such as "The Bridge of Sighs" and "The Song of the Shirt". Hood wrote regularly for The London Magazine, the Athenaeum, and Punch. He later published a magazine largely consisting of his own works. Hood, never robust, lapsed into invalidism by the age of 41 and died at the age of 45. William Michael Rossetti in 1903 called him "the finest English poet" between the generations of Shelley...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth23 May 1799
heart
And there is even a happiness That makes the heart afraid.
heart evil want
But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart!
fear sleep dying
Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
life night breathing
We watch'd her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro.
race taste certain
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
tails mouths said
Extremes meet', as the whiting said with its tail in its mouth.
artist frost paint
Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
fall years teeth
The best of friends fall out, and so his teeth had done some years ago.
kissing glowing light
She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
flower butterfly moon
No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.
love bows hats
The Quaker loves an ample brim, A hat that bows to no salaam; And dear the beaver is to him As if it never made a dam.
lying half easy
For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
lying way hedgehogs
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
wisdom thinking moments
A moment's thinking is an hour in words.