Thomas Hood

One more unfortunate
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!

One more unfortunate
Weary of breath,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death!

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like silence, listening
To silence, for no read more

I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;--
Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
Pearling his coronet of golden corn.

A bad reader soon puts to flight both wise men and fools.

A bad reader soon puts to flight both wise men and fools.

It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.

It is not linen you're wearing out,
But human creatures' lives.

While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us read more

While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us chime in a peal, one and all,
For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.