Thomas Hood

And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
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And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
All on their drooping stems they sink unfanned.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

O bed! O bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary head.

The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.

The lily is all in white, like a saint,
And so is no mate for me.

At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
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At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.

She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of read more

She stood breast-high amid the corn,
Clasp'd by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.