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Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
Thomas Hood
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Thomas Hood
Age: 45 †
Born: 1799
Born: May 23
Died: 1845
Died: May 3
Humorist
Poet
Writer
London
England
T. H.
Thee
Mines
Mine
Choose
Call
Art
Every
Valentine
Love
Thou
More quotes by Thomas Hood
What joy have I in June's return? My feet are parched-my eyeballs burn, I scent no flowery gust But faint the flagging zephyr springs, With dry Macadam on its wings, And turns me 'dust to dust.'
Thomas Hood
There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.
Thomas Hood
Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
Thomas Hood
While the steeples are loud in their joy, To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding, Let us chime in a peal, one and all, For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.
Thomas Hood
Experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow.
Thomas Hood
A name, it has more than nominal worth, And belongs to good or bad luck at birth
Thomas Hood
Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
Thomas Hood
Such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.
Thomas Hood
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold, Her fickle temper has oft been told, Now shade--now bright and sunny-- But of all the lunar things that change, The one that shows most fickle and strange, And takes the most eccentric range, Is the moon--so called--of honey!
Thomas Hood
Spontaneously to God should turn the soul, Like the magnetic needle to the pole But what were that intrinsic virtue worth, Suppose some fellow, with more zeal than knowledge, Fresh from St. Andrew's College, Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
Thomas Hood
When he is forsaken, Withered and shaken, What can an old man do but die?
Thomas Hood
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.
Thomas Hood
How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.
Thomas Hood
Apothegms form a short cut to much knowledge.
Thomas Hood
And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast, And been bow'd to the earth by its fury To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury - Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime, The regrets of remembrance to cozen, And having obtained a New Trial of Time, Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.
Thomas Hood
Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Thomas Hood
My brain is dull, my sight is foul, I cannot write a verse, or read-- Then, Pallas, take away thine Owl, And let us have a lark instead.
Thomas Hood
I love thee - I love thee, 'Tis all that I can say, It is my vision in the night, My dreaming in the day.
Thomas Hood
Whoe'er has gone thro' London street, Has seen a butcher gazing at his meat, And how he keeps Gloating upon a sheep's Or bullock's personals, as if his own How he admires his halves And quarters--and his calves, As if in truth upon his own legs grown.
Thomas Hood
Bells are musics laughter.
Thomas Hood