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Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves.

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.
Jasmine
Loves
Sweet
Many

More quotes by Thomas Hood

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Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
Thomas Hood
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Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
Thomas Hood
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There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
Thomas Hood
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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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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.
Thomas Hood
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How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.
Thomas Hood
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Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!
Thomas Hood
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Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Thomas Hood
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Well for the drones of the social hive that there are bees of an industrious turn, willing, for an infinitesimal share of the honey, to undertake the labor of its fabrication.
Thomas Hood
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Fuss is the froth of business.
Thomas Hood
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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
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Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
Thomas Hood
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Whilst breezy waves toss up their silvery spray.
Thomas Hood
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There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.
Thomas Hood
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I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs, where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburmum on his birthday,- The tree is living yet.
Thomas Hood
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My books kept me from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon.
Thomas Hood
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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
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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
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Well, something must be done for May, The time is drawing nigh-- To figure in the Catalogue, And woo the public eye. Something I must invent and paint But oh my wit is not Like one of those kind substantives That answer Who and What?
Thomas Hood
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Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
Thomas Hood