She stood breast-high amid the corn Clasp'd by the golden light of morn, Like the sweetheart of the sun, Who many a glowing kiss had won.
Thomas Hood (1798 - 1845)
Contributed by: Zaady
Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould.
Source: Her Moral.
I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.
My tears must stop, for every drop Hinders needle and thread.
Source: The Song of the Shirt.
No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.
No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon, No dawn, no dusk, no proper time of day, . . . . . . No road, no street, no t' other side the way, . . . . . . No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no buds.
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member - No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds - November!
O bed! O bed! delicious bed! That heaven upon earth to the weary head!
Source: Her Dream.
O God! that bread should be so dear, And flesh and blood so cheap!
Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
Source: A Table of Errata.
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