Thomas Hood

Thomas Hood

May 23, 1799 - May 3, 1845


The Forsaken

by Thomas Hood

The dead are in their silent graves,
And the dew is cold above,
And the living weep and sigh
Over dust that once was love.

Once I only wept the dead,
But now the living cause my pain;
How couldst thou steal me from my tears,
To leave me to my tears again?

My mother rests beneath the sod, --
Her rest is calm and very deep:
I wished that she could see our loves, --
But now I gladden in her sleep.

Last night unbound my raven locks,
The morning saw them turned to gray,
Once they were black and well beloved,
But thou art changed, -- and so are they!

The useless lock I gave thee once,
To gaze upon and think of me,
Was ta'en with smiles, -- but this was torn
In sorrow that I send to thee.


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