Thomas Hood Quotes - Page 2

Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!

A moment's thinking is an hour in words.

Oh! God! That bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap!

Fuss is the froth of business.

But evil is wrought by want of thought, As well as want of heart!

My tears must stop, for every drop Hinders needle and thread.

It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm further off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

The year's in wane; There is nothing adorning; The night has no eve, And the day has no morning; Cold winter gives warning!

A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.

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.

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.

A man that's fond precociously of stirring , :;:; Must be a spoon.

Tis like the birthday of the world, When earth was born in bloom; The light is made of many dyes, The air is all perfume: There's crimson buds, and white and blue, The very rainbow showers Have turned to blossoms where they fell, And sown the earth with flowers.

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.

Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!

Boughs are daily rifled By the gusty thieves, And the book of Nature Getteth short of leaves.

How widely its agencies vary,- To save, to ruin, to curse, to bless,- As even its minted coins express, Now stamp'd with the image of Good Queen Bess, And now of a Bloody Mary.

There's a double beauty whenever a swan Swims on a lake with her double thereon.

Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!

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.

The biggest bore of all is he who is overflowing with congratulations

A name, it has more than nominal worth, And belongs to good or bad luck at birth

Sweet are the little brooks that run O'er pebbles glancing in the sun, Singing in soothing tones.

Dear bells! how sweet the sound of village bells When on the undulating air they swim!