Thomas Hood

Poor Peggy hawks nosegays from street to street
Till--think of that who find life so sweet!--
She read more

Poor Peggy hawks nosegays from street to street
Till--think of that who find life so sweet!--
She hates the smell of roses!

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now read more

The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now bright and sunny--
But of all the lunar things that change,
The one that shows most fickle and strange,
And takes the most eccentric range,
Is the moon--so called--of honey!

A leech that will not quit the skin until sated with blood.

A leech that will not quit the skin until sated with blood.

A greater liar than the Parthians.

A greater liar than the Parthians.

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but read more

Stoop where thou wilt, thy careless hand
Some random bud will meet;
Thou canst not tread, but thou wilt find
The daisy at thy feet.