 | The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood |  |
A Lady
She sighed
And paleness came, like moonlight, o'er her face.
And paleness came, like moonlight, o'er her face.
She was like an angel in mosaic,
Made up of many-coloured virtues.
Made up of many-coloured virtues.
A friendless heart is like a hollow shell,
That sighs o'er its own emptiness.
That sighs o'er its own emptiness.
He lay with a dead passion on his face,
Like a storm stiffen'd in ice.
Like a storm stiffen'd in ice.
Sometimes Hope
Singeth so plaintively, 'tis like Despair.
Singeth so plaintively, 'tis like Despair.
Her smile can make dull Melancholy grow
Transparent to the secret hope below.
Transparent to the secret hope below.
| The complete poetical works of Thomas Hood | |