Thomas Hood

Thomas Hood

May 23, 1799 - May 3, 1845


Sonnet To A Sonnet

by Thomas Hood

Rare composition of a poet-knight,
Most chivalrous amongst chivalric men,
Distinguished for a polished lance and pen
In tuneful contest and in tourney-fight;
Lustrous in scholarship, in honor bright,
Accomplished in all graces current then,
Humane as any in historic ken,
Brave, handsome, noble, affable, polite;
Most courteous to that race become of late
So fiercely scornful of all kind advance,
Rude, bitter, coarse, implacable in hate
To Albion, plotting ever her mischance, --
Alas, fair verse! how false and out of date
Thy phrase sweet enemy applied to France!


The Poetical Works Of Thomas Hood
Copyright 1861
Boston: Crosby, Nichols, Lee and Company

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W. - John KeatsRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsThe Meaning Of The Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodThe Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne WhitneyTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyDark rolling clouds in wild confusion driven... - Caroline Bowles SoutheyConsolation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPatience Taught By Nature - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsTo The Nile - John KeatsOn The Sea - John KeatsTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsWritten On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison - John KeatsThe Same (Might we make quest ...) - Anne WhitneyWhy did I laugh to-night? - John KeatsPast And Future - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodFrom all these mounds, though day blows fresh and warm, - Anne WhitneyKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsTo George Sand: A Recognition - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyI cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love ... - John KeatsSonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodTo Homer - John KeatsTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodThree Flowers - Thomas Bailey AldrichC. L'E. - Anne WhitneyWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningNight - Anne WhitneyOn Seeing The Elgin Marbles - John KeatsThe Human Seasons - John KeatsNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyContinence - Anne WhitneyOn Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsCheerfulness Taught By Reason - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn A Dream - John KeatsStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakes - Anne WhitneyOn Leigh Hunt's Poem, The Story Of Rimini. - John KeatsThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodExaggeration - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsThe Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWhen I have fears that I may cease to be ... - John KeatsHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsTo The Same - Anne WhitneyTo A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses - John KeatsTo _. (Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb, ...) - John KeatsIf by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd ... - John KeatsO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyWithin my life another life runs deep, - Anne WhitneyAddressed To The Same - John KeatsThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyDiscontent - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningInsufficiency - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyAdequacy - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningFalse Poets And True - Thomas HoodThe Two Sayings - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo one who has been long in city pent, ... - John KeatsIt is not death, that sometime in a sigh... - Thomas HoodAnd for that thou art Beauty, and thy name... - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ... - John KeatsOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo My Brother - John KeatsTo J. H. 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