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

— Thomas Hood

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

— Thomas Hood

Peace and rest at length have come All the day's long toil is past And each heart is whispering "Home Home at last!"

— Thomas Hood

Peace and rest at length have come All the day's long toil is past, And each heart is whispering, 'Home, Home at last.

— Thomas Hood

SilenceTHERE 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, 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 hyæna calls, And owls, that flit continually between, Shriek to the echo, and the low winds moan— There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.

— Thomas Hood

Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.

— Thomas Hood

There are three things which the public will always clamor for sooner or later: namely novelty novelty novelty.

— Thomas Hood

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

— Thomas Hood

When Eve upon the first of Mentee apple press’d with specious can't, Oh! What a thousand pities then That Adam was not adamant!

— Thomas Hood

When Eve upon the first of men The apple pressed with specious can't Oh! What a thousand pities then That Adam was not adamant.

— Thomas Hood