Thomas Hood

Rating: 5
Rating: 5

Thomas Hood Biography

He was born in London to Thomas Hood and Elizabeth Sands in the Poultry (Cheapside) above his father's bookshop. Hood's paternal family had been Scottish farmers from the village of Errol near Dundee. The Elder Hood was a partner in the business of Verner, Hood, and Sharp, and was a member of the Associated booksellers. Hood's son, Tom Hood, claimed that his grandfather had been the first to opened up the book trade with America and he had great success in new editions of old books.

"Next to being a citizen of the world," writes Thomas Hood in his Literary Reminiscences, "it must be the best thing to be born a citizen of the world's greatest city." On the death of her husband in 1811, Mrs Hood moved to Islington, where Thomas Hood had a schoolmaster who, appreciating his talents, "made ...

Thomas Hood Comments

David Solomon 04 October 2009

what a meaningful poem that taught me the meaning of sacrifice, the woman decided to make a song of her pains to make the rich happy although the song will never reach the rich

20 11 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 11 November 2020

Thomas Hood who is ranked #230 on top 500 poets on date 11 November 2020 is an outstanding poet whop has acquired place in hearts of people. He has created amazing history through his pen. His golden word shines through his poetry and pen.

0 1 Reply

I never knew such a vast talent existed, he writes as though it were yesterday! Fantastic, Amazing Wonderful! ! !

1 0 Reply
abinayavarshini.v 4e 23 April 2019

I hate it, i hate it

0 0 Reply
Collette Anne Kearns 07 October 2015

My Mother loved this poem. the last few lines made her sad though. She would often comment that the speaker should have been closer to Heaven the older he became.

7 0 Reply
Dan Reynolds 23 September 2014

You show some promise, but the archaic language lets you down. Try to read some good contemporary poets and expand your thoughts without the restriction of form.

4 12 Reply

The Best Poem Of Thomas Hood

I Remember, I Remember

I Remember, I Remember

I remember, I remember
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon
Nor brought too long a day;
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away.

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 laburnum on his birthday,--
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then
That is so heavy now,
The summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow.

I remember, I remember
The fir-trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy.

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