THOMAS HOOD

(1799-1845)

SILENCE

THERE 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 hushed-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

DEATH

Ir is not death, that sometime in a sigh
This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight ;
That sometime these bright stars, that now reply
In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night,
That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,
And all life's ruddy springs forget to flow;
That thoughts shall cease, and the immortal Sprite
Be lapped in alien clay and laid below ;

It is not death to know this, but to know

That pious thoughts, which visit at new graves
In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go
So duly and so oft,-and when grass waves

Over the past-away, there may be then
No resurrection in the minds of men.

INDEX OF POETS

Alexander, William, Earl of Sterline (1567-1640).

Bamfylde, J. C. W. (1754-96).
Barnefield, Richard (1574-1627).
Barnes, Barnabe (1569-1609).

Best, Charles (c. 1602; birth and death unknown).
Boyde, Mark Alexander (1563-1601).

Browne, William (1590-1645).

Brydges, Egerton (1762-1831).

Byron, G. G. N., Lord (1788-1824).

Campion, Thomas (d. 1619).

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor (1772-1834).

Constable, Henry (1562-1613).

Cowper, William (1731-1800).

Daniel, Samuel (1562-1619).

Donne, John (1573-1631).

Drayton, Michael (1563-1631).

Drummond, William (1585-1649).

Florio, John (1553-1625)

Gray, Thomas (1716-71).

Greville, Fulke, Lord Brooke (1554-1628).

Griffin, Bartholomew (fl. 1596; dates unknown).

Habington, William (1605-54).

Herbert, George (1593-1633).

Herrick, Robert (1591-1674).

Hood, Thomas (1799-1845).

Howard, Henry, Earl of Surrey (1518-46).

Jonson, Ben (1573-1637).

Keats, John (1795-1821).

Lamb, Charles (1775-1834).

Milton, John (1608-74)

Procter, Bryan Waller (1787-1874).

Ralegh, Walter (1552-1618).
Russell, Thomas (1762-88).

Shakespeare, William (1564-1616).
Shelley, Percy Bysshe (1792-1822).
Sidney, Philip (1554-86).
Spenser, Edmund (1553-99).
Stillingfleet, Benjamin (1702-71).
Sylvester, Joshua (1563-1618).

Warton, Thomas (1728-90).
White, Joseph Blanco (1775-1841).
Williams, Helen Maria (1762-1827).
Wordsworth, William (1770-1850).
Wyat, Thomas (1503-42).

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

A gentle shepherd, born in Arcady
Ah, sweet Content, where is thy mild abode
Alexis, here she stayed; among these pines
And yet I cannot reprehend the flight
Another year, another deadly blow! .
A rose as fair as ever saw the North

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As Hermes once took to his feathers light.

As when it happeneth that some lovely town

As when, to one who long hath watched, the Morn

At the round earth's imagined corners blow

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

106

Ay me, and am I now the man whose Muse

Beauty, sweet love, is like the morning dew

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4I

Because thou wast the daughter of a King
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Beneath a sable veil and shadows deep
Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms
Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night
Come hither, all sweet maidens, soberly
Come Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace
Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence
Could then the babes from yon unsheltered cot
Cowper, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard
Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Dear quirister, who from these shadows sends
Dear, why should you command me to my rest
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion's paws
Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move
Drawn with the attractive virtue of her eyes
Earth has not anything to show more fair.

England! the time is come when thou should'st wean
Eternal Lord! eased of a cumbrous load
Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind.