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169 Works of Thomas Hood

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No!

Story type: Poetry

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No sun–no moon!No morn–no noon–No dawn–no dusk–no proper time of day–No sky–no earthly view–No distance looking blue–No road–no street–no “t’ other side the way”–No end to any Row–No indications where the Crescents go–No top to any steeple–No recognitions of familiar people–No courtesies for showing ’em–No knowing ’em!To traveling at all–no locomotion,No inkling of the way–no […]

[A pathetic ballad] 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!” The army-surgeons made him limbs:Said he, “they’re only pegs:But there’s […]

“My TABLES! MEAT it is, I SET IT down!”–Hamlet I think it was Spring–but not certain I am–When my passion began first to work;But I know we were certainly looking for lamb,And the season was over for pork. ‘T was at Christmas, I think, when I met with Miss Chase,Yes–for Morris had asked me to […]

“Old woman, old woman, will you go a-shearing?Speak a little louder, for I’m very hard of hearing.”Old Ballad. Of all old women hard of hearing, The deafest, sure, was Dame Eleanor Spearing! On her head, it is true, Two flaps there grew, That served for a pair of gold rings to go through, But for […]

The Forge

Story type: Poetry

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A ROMANCE OF THE IRON AGE. “Who’s here, beside foul weather?”–KING LEAR. “Mine enemy’s dog, though he had bit me,Should have stood that night against my fire”–CORDELIA [Note 44: This Poem was doubtless one of the results of Hood’s residence in Germany. It is suggested apparently in about equal proportions by the Walpurgis-night in Faust, […]

[NFootnote 45: “The Row at the Oxford Arms” (to quote its alternative title) is a squib on the contest at Oxford, in 1841-42, for the Professorship of Poetry. The candidates, it will be remembered, were Isaac Williams and Mr. (afterwards Archdeacon) Garbett. The struggle was the more intense that it was openly acknowledged to be […]

An Open Question.

Story type: Poetry

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“It is the king’s highway that we are in, and in thisway it is that thou hast placed the lions.”–BUNYAN. What! shut the gardens; lock the latticed gate!Refuse the shilling and the Fellow’s ticket!And hang a wooden notice up to state,“On Sundays no admittance at this wicket!” The Birds, the Beasts, and all the Reptile […]

Etching Moralised

Story type: Poetry

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TO A NOBLE LADY. “To point a moral.”–JOHNSON. Fairest Lady and Noble, for once on a time,Condescend to accept, in the humblest of rhyme,And a style more of Gay than of Milton,A few opportune verses design’d to impartSome didactical hints in a Needlework Art,Not described by the Countess of Wilton. An Art not unknown to […]

A Black Job

Story type: Poetry

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“No doubt the pleasure is as great, Of being cheated as to cheat.”–HUDIBRAS. The history of human-kind to trace, Since Eve–the first of dupes–our doom unriddled, A certain portion of the human race Has certainly a taste for being diddled. Witness the famous Mississippi dreams! A rage that time seems only to redouble– The Banks, […]

[Note: These verses form a good specimen of Hood’s capabilities for writing to order. They first appeared in the Bijou for 1828, accompanying a vignette by Thomas Stothard of two knights, mounted, and in complete armor, engaged in deadly conflict. This was doubtless (after the then custom of Annuals) placed in Hood’s hands for him […]

‘Twas in the middle of the night,To sleep young William tried,When Mary’s ghost came stealing in,And stood at his bedside. O William dear! O William dear!My rest eternal ceases;Alas! my everlasting peaceIs broken into pieces. I thought the last of all my caresWould end with my last minute;But though I went to my long home,I […]

The world is with me, and its many cares, Its woes–its wants–the anxious hopes and fears That wait on all terrestrial affairs– The shades of former and of future years– Foreboding fancies, and prophetic tears, Quelling a spirit that was once elate:– Heavens! what a wilderness the earth appears, Where Youth, and Mirth, and Health […]

Lear

Story type: Poetry

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A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown, Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind– For pity, my own tears have made me blind That I might never see my children’s frown; And, may be, madness, like a friend, has thrown A folded fillet over my dark mind, So that unkindly speech may […]

The Elm Tree

Story type: Poetry

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A DREAM IN THE WOODS. “And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees.”–As You Like It. ‘Twas in a shady Avenue, Where lofty Elms abound– And from a Tree There came to me A sad and solemn sound, That sometimes murmur’d overhead, And sometimes underground. Amongst the leaves it seem’d to […]

Full of drink and full of meat, On our SAVIOUR’S natal day, CHARITY’S perennial treat; Thus I heard a Pauper say:– “Ought not I to dance and sing Thus supplied with famous cheer? Heigho! I hardly know– Christmas comes but once a year. “After labor’s long turmoil, Sorry fare and frequent fast, Two-and-fifty weeks of […]

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 She sang the “Song of the Shirt.” “Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work–work–work, […]

My heart is sick with longing, tho’ I feed On hope; Time goes with such a heavy pace That neither brings nor takes from thy embrace, As if he slept–forgetting his old speed: For, as in sunshine only we can read The march of minutes on the dial’s face, So in the shadows of this […]

Lov’st thou not, Alice, with the early tide To see the hardy Fisher hoist his mast, And stretch his sail towards the ocean wide,– Like God’s own beadsman going forth to cast His net into the deep, which doth provide Enormous bounties, hidden in its vast Bosom like Charity’s, for all who seek And take […]

The Haunted House

Story type: Poetry

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[Note: From the opening number of Hood’s Magazine, January 1844. Written to accompany an engraving from a painting by Thomas Creswick, bearing the same title.] A ROMANCE. “A jolly place, said he, in days of old, But something ails it now: the spot is curst.” WORDSWORTH. PART I. Some dreams we have are nothing else […]

The lady lay in her bed, Her couch so warm and soft, But her sleep was restless and broken still; For turning often and oft From side to side, she mutter’d and moan’d, And toss’d her arms aloft. At last she startled up, And gazed on the vacant air, With a look of awe, as […]