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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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Thomas Hood
Age: 45 †
Born: 1799
Born: May 23
Died: 1845
Died: May 3
Humorist
Poet
Writer
London
England
T. H.
Away
Verses
Cannot
Dull
Pallas
Take
Sight
Lark
Writing
Sex
Larks
Instead
Owl
Brain
Thine
Read
Verse
Write
Foul
More quotes by 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
With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread.
Thomas Hood
There is not a string attuned to mirth but has its chord of melancholy.
Thomas Hood
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
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
Bells are musics laughter.
Thomas Hood
For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
Thomas Hood
Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!
Thomas Hood
There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.
Thomas Hood
The Autumn is old The sere leaves are flying He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying- Old age, begin sighing!
Thomas Hood
Dear bells! how sweet the sound of village bells When on the undulating air they swim!
Thomas Hood
Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
Thomas Hood
Half of the failures in life come from pulling one's horse when he is leaping.
Thomas Hood
Ben Battle was a soldier bold, and used to war's alarms, But a cannon-ball took off his legs, so he laid down his arms.
Thomas Hood
Jasmine is sweet, and has many loves.
Thomas Hood
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
Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.
Thomas Hood
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence, for no lonely bird would sing Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn, Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn- Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright With tangled gossamer that fell by night, Pearling his coronet of golden 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
No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
Thomas Hood