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Poem by Thomas Hood


Ruth


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


On her cheek an autumn flush,
Deeply ripend;such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.


Round her eyes her tresses fell,
Which were blackest none could tell,
But long lashes veild a light,
That had else been all too bright.


And her hat, with shady brim,
Made her tressy forehead dim;
Thus she stood amid the stooks,
Praising God with sweetest looks:


Sure, I said, Heavn did not mean,
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean,
Lay thy sheaf adown and come,
Share my harvest and my home. 



Thomas Hood


Thomas Hood's other poems:
  1. The Boy at the Nore
  2. Stanzas (Is there a bitter pang for love removed)
  3. Ballad (She's up and gone, the graceless girl)
  4. The Plea of the Midsummer Fairies
  5. Written in Keats' Endymion


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