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O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head.
Thomas Hood -
A certain portion of the human race has certainly a taste for being diddled.
Thomas Hood
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What is a modern poet's fate? / To write his thoughts upon a slate; / The critic spits on what is done, / Gives it a wipe - and all is gone.
Thomas Hood -
Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions; Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.
Thomas Hood -
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn.
Thomas Hood -
When Eve upon the first of Men The apple press'd with specious cant, Oh! what a thousand pities then That Adam was not Adamant!
Thomas Hood -
Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.
Thomas Hood -
How bless'd the heart that has a friend. A sympathizing ear to lend.
Thomas Hood
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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.
Thomas Hood -
Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!
Thomas Hood -
For my part, getting up seems not so easy By half as lying.
Thomas Hood -
So mayst thou live, dear! many years, In all the bliss that life endears
Thomas Hood -
A man that's fond precociously of stirring, Must be a spoon.
Thomas Hood -
Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun!
Thomas Hood