Thomas Hood

(1789-1845 / London / England)

Thomas Hood Poems

41. O Lady, Leave Thy Silken Thread 4/5/2010
42. The Lament Of Toby, The Learned Pig 4/5/2010
43. Ode On A Distant Prospect Of Clapham Academy 4/5/2010
44. Lycus The Centaur 4/5/2010
45. My Heart Is Sick With Longing 4/5/2010
46. Spring It Is Cheery 4/5/2010
47. Ode To Captain Paery 4/5/2010
48. Serenade 4/5/2010
49. To A False Friend 4/5/2010
50. The Departure Of Summer 4/5/2010
51. To A Sleeping Child 4/5/2010
52. Miss Killmansegg And Her Precious Leg. A Legend 4/5/2010
53. Verses Written In An Album 4/5/2010
54. Midnight 4/5/2010
55. Lear 4/5/2010
56. The Water Lady 4/5/2010
57. Welcome, Dear Heart, And A Most Kind Good-Morrow 4/5/2010
58. It Was Not In The Winter 4/5/2010
59. Ode To Autumn 4/5/2010
60. Ode To Melancholy 4/5/2010
61. The Stars Are With The Voyager 4/5/2010
62. The World Is With Me 12/31/2002
63. Tim Turpin 12/31/2002
64. By Eve'Ry Sweet Tradition Of True Hearts 4/5/2010
65. The Sun Was Slumbering In The West 1/3/2003
66. Farewell, Life! My Senses Swim 4/5/2010
67. A Retrospective Review 4/5/2010
68. False Poets And True (To Wordsworth) 4/5/2010
69. Bianca's Dream - A Venetian Story 4/5/2010
70. The Lay Of The Laborer 4/5/2010
71. The Dream Of Eugene Aram 1/3/2003
72. I Love Thee 4/5/2010
73. Hymn To The Sun 4/5/2010
74. Birthday Verses 4/5/2010
75. Is There A Bitter Pang For Love Removed 4/5/2010
76. On Mistress Nicely, A Pattern For Housekeepers 12/31/2002
77. Autumn Iii 4/5/2010
78. In Rotterdam 4/5/2010
79. Time Of Roses 12/31/2002
80. The Haunted House 12/31/2002
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 ...

Read the full of I Remember, I Remember

The Song Of The Shirt

The Song of the Shirt

With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread--
Stitch! stitch! stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch

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