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TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS HOOD, by                    
First Line: Take back into thy bosom, earth
Last Line: Shall hover, unforgetting.
Subject(s): Hood, Thomas (1799-1845); Writing & Writers

TAKE back into thy bosom, earth,
This joyous, May-eyed morrow,
The gentlest child that ever mirth
Gave to be reared by sorrow!
'T is hard -- while rays half green, half gold,
Through vernal bowers are burning,
And streams their diamond mirrors hold
To Summer's face returning --
To say we're thankful that his sleep
Shall nevermore be lighter,
In whose sweet-tongued companionship
Stream, bower, and beam grow brighter!

But all the more intensely true
His soul gave out each feature
Of elemental love, -- each hue
And grace of golden nature, --
The deeper still beneath it all
Lurked the keen jags of anguish;
The more the laurels clasped his brow
Their poison made it languish.
Seemed it that, like the nightingale
Of his own mournful singing,
The tenderer would his song prevail
While most the thorn was stinging.

So never to the desert-worn
Did fount bring freshness deeper
Than that his placid rest this morn
Has brought the shrouded sleeper.
That rest may lap his weary head
Where charnels choke the city,
Or where, mid woodlands, by his bed
The wren shall wake its ditty;
But near or far, while evening's star
Is dear to heart's regretting,
Around that spot admiring thought
Shall hover, unforgetting.

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