Classic and Contemporary Poetry
STANZAS TO TOM WOODGATE, OF HASTINGS, by THOMAS HOOD Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Tom; - are you still within this land Last Line: Tom woodgate, fare thee well! Subject(s): Friendship | ||||||||
TOM; -- are you still within this land Of livers -- still on Hastings' sand, Or roaming on the waves? Or has some billow o'er you rolled, Jealous that earth should lap so bold A seaman in her graves? On land the rushlight lives of men Go out but slowly; nine in ten, By tedious long decline -- Not so the jolly sailor sinks, Who founders in the wave, and drinks The apoplectic brine! Ay, while I write, mayhap your head Is sleeping on an oyster-bed -- I hope 'tis far from truth! -- With periwinkle eyes; -- your bone Beset with mussels, not your own, And corals at your tooth! Still does the Chance pursue the chance The main affords -- the Aidant dance In safety on the tide? Still flies that sign of my good-will A little bunting thing -- but still To thee a flag of pride? Does that hard, honest hand now clasp The tiller in its careful grasp -- With every summer breeze When ladies sail, in lady-fear -- Or, tug the oar, a gondolier On smooth Macadam seas? Or are you where the flounders keep, Some dozen briny fathoms deep, Where sand and shells abound -- With some old Triton on your chest, And twelve brave mermen for a 'quest, To find that you are -- drowned? Swift is the wave, and apt to bring A sudden doom -- perchance I sing A mere funereal strain; You have endured the utter strife -- And are -- the same in death or life -- A good man "in the main!" Oh, no -- I hope the old brown eye Still watches ebb, and flood, and sky; That still the brown old shoes Are sucking brine up -- pumps indeed! -- Your tooth still full of ocean weed, Or Indian -- which you choose. I like you, Tom! and in these lays Give honest worth its honest praise, No puff at honour's cost; For though you met these words of mine, All letter-learning was a line You, somehow, never crossed! Mayhap we ne'er shall meet again, Except on that Pacific main, Beyond this planet's brink; Yet, as we erst have braved the weather, Still may we float awhile together, As comrades on this ink! Many a scudding gale we've had Together, and, my gallant lad, Some perils we have passed; When huge and black the wave career'd, And oft the giant surge appear'd The master of our mast; -- 'Twas thy example taught me how To climb the billow's hoary brow, Or cleave the raging heap -- To bound along the ocean wild, With danger -- only as a child The waters rock'd to sleep. Oh, who can tell that brave delight, To see the hissing wave in might Come rampant like a snake! To leap his horrid crest, and feast One's eyes upon the briny beast, Left couchant in the wake! The simple shepherd's love is still To bask upon a sunny hill, The herdsman roams the vale -- With both their fancies I agree; Be mine the swelling, scooping sea, That is both hill and dale! I yearn for that brisk spray -- I yearn To feel the wave from stem to stern Uplift the plunging keel; That merry step we used to dance On board the Aidant or the Chance, The ocean "toe and heel." I long to feel the steady gale That fills the broad distended sail -- The seas on either hand! My thought, like any hollow shell, Keeps mocking at my ear the swell Of waves against the land. It is no fable -- that old strain Of syrens! -- so the witching main Is singing -- and I sigh! My heart is all at once inclined To seaward -- and I seem to find The waters in my eye! Methinks I see the shining beach; The merry waves, each after each, Rebounding o'er the flints; I spy the grim preventive spy! The jolly boatmen standing nigh! The maids in morning chintz! And there they float -- the sailing craft! The sail is up -- the wind abaft -- The ballast trim and neat. Alas! 'tis all a dream -- a lie! A printer's imp is standing by To haul my mizen sheet! My tiller dwindles to a pen -- My craft is that of bookish men -- My sail -- let Longman tell! Adieu, the wave, the wind, the spray! Men -- maidens -- chintzes -- fade away! Tom Woodgate, fare thee well! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOU & I BELONG IN THIS KITCHEN by JUAN FELIPE HERRERA JASON THE REAL by TONY HOAGLAND NO RESURRECTION by ROBINSON JEFFERS CHAMBER MUSIC: 17 by JAMES JOYCE CHAMBER MUSIC: 18 by JAMES JOYCE THE STONE TABLE by GALWAY KINNELL ALMSWOMAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO AN ENEMY by MAXWELL BODENHEIM SONNET: 10. TO A FRIEND by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |
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