The Forsaken

The dead are in their silent graves,
And the dew is cold above,
And the living weep and sigh,
Over dust that once was love.

Once I only wept the dead,
But now the living cause my pain:
How couldst thou steal me from my tears,
To leave me to my tears again?

My Mother rests beneath the sod, -
Her rest is calm and very deep:
I wish'd that she could see our loves, -
But now I gladden in her sleep.

Last night unbound my raven locks,
The morning saw them turn'd to gray,
Once they were black and well belov'd,
But thou art chang'd, - and so are they!

The useless lock I gave thee once,
To gaze upon and think of me,
Was ta'en with smiles, - but this was torn
In sorrow that I send to thee!

Thomas Hood . 1798-1844

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Poetry of Hood

Thomas Hood
born 1798, died 1844

Poems

The Wee Man
The Exile
The Lay of the Labourer
The Song of the Shirt
Gold
The Bridge of Sighs
The Death-Bed
I Remember, I Remember!
I Love Thee!
To An Absentee
To -
The Forsaken
Ruth
To My Daughter
To A Child
A Parental Ode To My Son, Aged Three Years And Five Months
To A False Friend
Flowers
The Lee-Shore

See all poems index for
Thomas Hood

The Forsaken - Thomas Hood - poetry, poems

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