Thomas Hood

(1789-1845 / London / England)

Thomas Hood Poems

81. The Death Bed 1/3/2003
82. Autumn Iii 4/5/2010
83. Allegory: A Moral Vehicle 1/3/2003
84. Ruth 12/31/2002
85. Fair Ines 12/31/2002
86. Midnight 4/5/2010
87. Allegory 12/31/2002
88. Flowers 1/3/2003
89. Death 12/31/2002
90. Christmas Holidays 12/31/2002
91. Silence 12/31/2002
92. Faithless Sally Brown 12/31/2002
93. Faithless Nelly Gray 1/3/2003
94. Anticipation 4/5/2010
95. No! 1/3/2003
96. Past And Present 1/3/2003
97. The Song Of The Shirt 12/31/2002
98. The Bridge Of Sighs 12/31/2002
99. Autumn 12/31/2002
100. Gold! 1/3/2003
101. A Lake And A Fairy Boat 1/3/2003
102. November 12/31/2002
103. I Remember, I Remember 12/31/2002

Comments about Thomas Hood

  • Collette Anne Kearns Collette Anne Kearns (10/7/2015 10:49:00 AM)

    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.

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  • Dan Reynolds Dan Reynolds (9/23/2014 7:32:00 AM)

    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.

  • David Solomon (10/4/2009 3:26:00 PM)

    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

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

Silence

Silence


There is a silence where hath been no sound,
There is a silence where no sound may be,
In the cold grave—under the deep, deep sea,
Or in wide desert where no life is found,
Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound;
No voice is hush’d—no life treads silently,

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