The poetical works of Thomas Hood, ed. by W.M. Rossetti1871 |
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Página vii
... dear " False Poets and True Fragment .- " Farewell - Farewell " The Two Swans . — A Fairy Tale PAGE 202 203 204 204 • 206 · Stanzas to Tom Woodgate of Hastings Time , Hope , and Memory . Flowers 215 219 220 Ballad .- " She's and gone ...
... dear " False Poets and True Fragment .- " Farewell - Farewell " The Two Swans . — A Fairy Tale PAGE 202 203 204 204 • 206 · Stanzas to Tom Woodgate of Hastings Time , Hope , and Memory . Flowers 215 219 220 Ballad .- " She's and gone ...
Página 7
... dear so pale and still Crowding her softly round on either hand , As pale as frosty snowdrops , and as chill , To whom the sceptred dame reveals her ill . " Alas , " quoth she , " ye know our fairy lives Are leased upon the fickle faith ...
... dear so pale and still Crowding her softly round on either hand , As pale as frosty snowdrops , and as chill , To whom the sceptred dame reveals her ill . " Alas , " quoth she , " ye know our fairy lives Are leased upon the fickle faith ...
Página 9
... dear ; " Alas ! " quoth she , " is there no nodding wheat Ripe for thy crooked weapon , and more meet , - Or wither'd leaves to ravish from the tree , — Or crumbling battlements for thy defeat ? Think but what vaunting monuments there ...
... dear ; " Alas ! " quoth she , " is there no nodding wheat Ripe for thy crooked weapon , and more meet , - Or wither'd leaves to ravish from the tree , — Or crumbling battlements for thy defeat ? Think but what vaunting monuments there ...
Página 14
... dear portal , or at pale moon - rise Crush'd the dear curl on a regardful brow , That did not frown thee from thy honey prize- If ever thy sweet son sat on thy thighs , And wooed thee from thy careful thoughts within To watch the ...
... dear portal , or at pale moon - rise Crush'd the dear curl on a regardful brow , That did not frown thee from thy honey prize- If ever thy sweet son sat on thy thighs , And wooed thee from thy careful thoughts within To watch the ...
Página 26
... dear in many a prankish deed To make dame Laughter hold her jolly sides , Like merry mummers twain on holy tides . " " Tis we that bob the angler's idle cork , Till e'en the patient man breathes half a curse ; We steal the morsel from ...
... dear in many a prankish deed To make dame Laughter hold her jolly sides , Like merry mummers twain on holy tides . " " Tis we that bob the angler's idle cork , Till e'en the patient man breathes half a curse ; We steal the morsel from ...
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Hood, Ed. by W. M. Rossetti Thomas Hood Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
began bird blood bloom bow'd breath bright brow call'd cheek clouds cold cried dance dark dead dear Death doth dream earth eyes face fair fairy fancy fear flowers gaze gentle gloomy gold Golden Leg grave green Gretna Green grief hand hath head heart heaven Hood Hood's horrid horse Huggins human John Hamilton Reynolds John Huggins light limb living look look'd Lycus maid Meanwhile merry Miss Kilmansegg moon morning Nelly Gray never night o'er once Otto of Roses perchance Peter Stone poor Quoth raining music rose round Sally Brown seem'd shade shine sighs sing sleep song soon sorrow soul stamp'd stept stood sweet tears tender thee There's thing Thomas Hood thou thought thro took tree turn turn'd Twas wave weep Whilst wild William dear WILLIAM MICHAEL ROSSETTI wings
Pasajes populares
Página 179 - 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! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
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 378 - But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee!
Página 94 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted I PART II.
Página xxxiii - 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 194 - THERE is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave — under the deep, deep sea, Or in wide desert where no life is found, Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound ; No voice is hushed — no life treads silently, But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free, That never spoke, over the idle ground : But in green ruins, in the desolate walls Of antique palaces, where Man hath been, Though the dun fox, or wild...
Página 95 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!
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 benumbed, As well as the weary hand.
Página 343 - BEN BATTLE was a soldier bold, And used to war's alarms : But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms ! Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, " Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot 1
Página 101 - Oh what a tale they told of fear intense, Of horror and amazement ! What human creature in the dead of night Had coursed like hunted hare that cruel distance ? Had sought the door, the window in his flight, Striving for dear existence ? What shrieking spirit in that bloody room Its mortal frame had violently quitted? — Across the sunbeam, with a sudden gloom, A ghostly shadow flitted.