Last Lines of Thomas Hood
A solemn echo to the end of time.And blazoned on the very clouds of fate!And close his eyelids with thy silver wand!And day is brighter day.And keep a birthday when we meet.And more than gold to doting Avarice.And takes its time from Heaven!And tears of dew are on them all.And wishing has lost its power!Another morn than ours.As if Love's great examples still were lacked.As only should be shed for guilt and shame!But bears its blossom into Winter's clime.But live and bloom, and be a joy forever.But she's divine!But when they flew were recognized!By the same light of love that makes them bright!Comes too near his home!Fill up the silences of night and morn.Foolish -- and blind -- and overcome with years!For fairest of all is she.Has broken many more!He murmurs,
Lawk-a-daisy!Here's enow for sad thinking!I smell the rose above the mould!I would our hands had never met!In patient love outwatch the world.In sorrow that I send to thee.It is no snow, but flower of May!Love, thou art every day my Valentine.Made such a churl of me.Making this dull world an enchanted isle.My tide of life is true to thee.Next to her soil, my grave be found in thee!No resurrection in the minds of men.Pray for her at eve and morn!Share my harvest and my home.So may thy life be measured out by flowers!Than when I was a boy.The place is haunted!The Spital, or the Gaol!There the true Silence is, self-conscious and alone.Thou hast loved Hope, but Memory loved thee.Thou twinest into flowers!Thy phrase
sweet enemyapplied to France!Tinging thy dreams with unacquainted grief.To frame her cloudy prison for the soul!To meet her father's will!To share beyond the lot of common men.Together pant in everlasting life!Was this -- I wept.We plucked them as we passed!What can an old man do but die?Whatever be thy chance.Who
makes a son-shine in a shady place.Would dream the Lady's Dream!