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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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Thomas Hood
Age: 45 †
Born: 1799
Born: May 23
Died: 1845
Died: May 3
Humorist
Poet
Writer
London
England
T. H.
Turns
Industrious
Social
Undertake
Wells
Bees
Well
Honey
Infinitesimal
Labor
Hive
Willing
Fabrication
Turn
Hives
Share
Drones

More quotes by 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.
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Whilst breezy waves toss up their silvery spray.
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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.
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Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!
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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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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.
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How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.
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With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread.
Thomas Hood
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Dear bells! how sweet the sound of village bells When on the undulating air they swim!
Thomas Hood
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How bravely Autumn paints upon the sky The gorgeous fame of Summer which is fled!
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Frost is the greatest artist in our clime - he paints in nature and describes in rime.
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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!
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I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
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Bells are musics laughter.
Thomas Hood
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Father of rosy day, No more thy clouds of incense rise But waking flow'rs, At morning hours, Give out their sweets to meet thee in the skies.
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There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
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Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died.
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
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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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My books kept me from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloon.
Thomas Hood