Thomas Hood

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Unnatural and full of contradictions; Yet others of our most romantic schemes, Are something more than fictions.

Tis like the birthday of the world,_x000D_ _x000D_ When earth was born in bloom;_x000D_ _x000D_ The light is made of many dyes,_x000D_ _x000D_ The air is all perfume:_x000D_ _x000D_ There's crimson buds, and white and blue,_x000D_ _x000D_ The very rainbow showers_x000D_ _x000D_ Have turned to blossoms where they fell,_x000D_ _x000D_ And sown the earth with flowers.

Some minds improve by travel, others, rather, resemble copper wire, or brass, which get the narrower by going farther.

It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm further off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

The Autumn is old; The sere leaves are flying; He hath gather'd up gold, And now he is dying;- Old age, begin sighing!

I resolved that, like the sun, as long as my day lasted, I would look on the bright side of everything.

I remember, I remember The fir-trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky; It was a childish ignorance, But now 't is little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy.

O men with sisters dear, O men with mothers and wives, It is not linen you 're wearing out, But human creatures' lives!

Oh, if it be to choose and call thee mine, love, thou art every day my Valentine!

It was not in the winter_x000D_ _x000D_ Our loving lot was cast!_x000D_ _x000D_ It was the time of roses,_x000D_ _x000D_ We plucked them as we passed!

And ye, who have met with Adversity's blast, And been bow'd to the earth by its fury; To whom the Twelve Months, that have recently pass'd Were as harsh as a prejudiced jury - Still, fill to the Future! and join in our chime, The regrets of remembrance to cozen, And having obtained a New Trial of Time, Shout in hopes of a kindlier dozen.

Lives of great men oft remind us as we o'er their pages turn, That we too may leave behind us - Letters that we ought to burn.

Peace and rest at length have come,_x000D_ _x000D_ All the day's long toil is past;_x000D_ _x000D_ And each heart is whispering, "Home,_x000D_ _x000D_ Home at last!"