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The lily is all in white, like a saint, And so is no mate for me.

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.
Lily
Lilies
Mate
Mates
Saint
White
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More quotes by 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.
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Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
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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.
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Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!
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No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
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I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
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?
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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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So mayst thou live, dear! many years, In all the bliss that life endears
Thomas Hood
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How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
Thomas Hood
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She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
Thomas Hood
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Sweet are the little brooks that run O'er pebbles glancing in the sun, Singing in soothing tones.
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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Such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.
Thomas Hood
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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
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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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The year's in wane There is nothing adorning The night has no eve, And the day has no morning Cold winter gives warning!
Thomas Hood
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Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
Thomas Hood
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Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.
Thomas Hood