Prose and verse1849 |
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Side vii
... heart , which reflect most faithfully his life and opinions , which may be emphatically called ( as he himself gave name to a book which has con- tributed largely to these pages ) HOOD's Own , and not the bookseller's own , the ...
... heart , which reflect most faithfully his life and opinions , which may be emphatically called ( as he himself gave name to a book which has con- tributed largely to these pages ) HOOD's Own , and not the bookseller's own , the ...
Side viii
... heart , the delicate fancy , hidden be- neath . There are whole volumes of Hood's writings which ap- pear mere whimsicality and grotesqueness ; there are pages which indicate the genius of the man , and will be worth more to posterity ...
... heart , the delicate fancy , hidden be- neath . There are whole volumes of Hood's writings which ap- pear mere whimsicality and grotesqueness ; there are pages which indicate the genius of the man , and will be worth more to posterity ...
Side 4
... heart is lower hung than usual - but what of that ? The more need to keep it up ! So huzza ! my boys ! Comus and Momus for ever ! No Hera- clitus ! Nine times nine for Democritus ! And here goes my last bottle of Elixir at the heads of ...
... heart is lower hung than usual - but what of that ? The more need to keep it up ! So huzza ! my boys ! Comus and Momus for ever ! No Hera- clitus ! Nine times nine for Democritus ! And here goes my last bottle of Elixir at the heads of ...
Side 5
... heart , quickens the circula- tion , and “ like a trumpet makes the spirits dance . " A fico then for the Chesterfieldian canon , that laughter is an ungenteel emotion . Smiles are tolerated by the very pinks of politeness ; and a laugh ...
... heart , quickens the circula- tion , and “ like a trumpet makes the spirits dance . " A fico then for the Chesterfieldian canon , that laughter is an ungenteel emotion . Smiles are tolerated by the very pinks of politeness ; and a laugh ...
Side 18
... heart of Lincoln- shire fens , over which it looks through an advantageous opening : comprising a great variety of windmills , and drains , and willow- pollards , and an extensive assortment of similar articles , that are not much ...
... heart of Lincoln- shire fens , over which it looks through an advantageous opening : comprising a great variety of windmills , and drains , and willow- pollards , and an extensive assortment of similar articles , that are not much ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
amongst autograph better BLACK DRIVER boys bread burning called Charles Lamb common Cornelius Mathews course Dame dance dead deaf dear door double dream English evvery eyes face fancy fear feel fire gentleman gilded give gold Gold Sticks Golden Leg green hand head hear heart hint hope horse housis human lady Lamb light limb Lincolnshire literary literature London look Lord Lord Byron Master Humphrey's Clock mesmerism mind Miss Kilmansegg moral nature never night once Otto of Roses perhaps pirate Poet poor precious Quaker remember Robinson Crusoe seem'd seems Serjeant Talfourd short sick Sir Jacob Sir Walter Scott sort soul sound spirit There's thing THOMAS HOOD tree Trumpet turn Twas voice walk Whigs whilst whisper witch write young yure
Populære passager
Side 203 - Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast ! Owning her weakness, Her evil behavior, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour ! (The vigour of this poem is no less remarkable than its pathos.
Side 34 - I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER" I REMEMBER, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups— Those flowers made of light!
Side 200 - 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 that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour Death has left on her Only the beautiful.
Side 208 - 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 !
Side 209 - 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!
Side 27 - As soon as the mid-day task was done, In secret I was there : And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare ! " Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep; Or land or sea, though he should be Ten thousand fathoms deep ! " So wills the fierce avenging sprite, Till blood for blood atones ! Ay, though he 's buried in a cave, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh — The world...
Side 26 - One stern tyrannic thought, that made All other thoughts its slave; Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave, Still urging me to go and see The Dead Man in his grave!
Side 202 - Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran, — Over the brink of it, Picture it — think of it, Dissolute Man ! Lave in it, drink of it Then, if you can ! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care ; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair...
Side 209 - Work, work, work ! My labor 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.
Side 131 - 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 ! PART III.