The poetical works of Thomas Hood, ed. by W.M. Rossetti

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1871
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Page 179 - Work - work work Till the brain begins to swim! Work - work - work Till the eyes are heavy and dim! Seam , and gusset , and band , Band , and gusset , and seam , Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew them on in a dream! "O men with sisters dear! O men with mothers and wives! It is not linen you're wearing out , But human creatures
Page 179 - 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, — Would that its tone could reach the Rich ! She sang this " Song of the Shirt !
Page 378 - But I must also feel it as a man: I cannot but remember such things were, That were most precious to me. Did heaven look on, And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff, They were all struck for thee!
Page 94 - For over all there hung a cloud of fear, A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted I PART II.
Page 194 - 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 hushed — no life treads silently, But clouds and cloudy shadows wander free, That never spoke, over the idle ground : But in green ruins, in the desolate walls Of antique palaces, where Man hath been, Though the dun fox, or wild...
Page 95 - O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear ; A sense of mystery the spirit daunted, And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!
Page 183 - Work, work, work! From weary chime to chime ; Work, work, work, As prisoners work for crime : Band and gusset and seam, Seam and gusset and band, Till the heart is sick, and the brain benumbed, As well as the weary hand.
Page 343 - 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 ! Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, " Let others shoot, For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot 1
Page 101 - Oh what a tale they told of fear intense, Of horror and amazement ! What human creature in the dead of night Had coursed like hunted hare that cruel distance ? Had sought the door, the window in his flight, Striving for dear existence ? What shrieking spirit in that bloody room Its mortal frame had violently quitted? — Across the sunbeam, with a sudden gloom, A ghostly shadow flitted.

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