RUTH by: Thomas Hood (1799-1845)  HE 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. On her cheek an autumn flush,Deeply ripen'd;--such a blushIn 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 veil'd 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, Heav'n did not mean,Where I reap thou shouldst but glean,Lay thy sheaf adown and come,Share my harvest and my home. MORE POEMS BY THOMAS HOOD RELATED LINKS Thomas Hood: Bibliography - A bibliography of the works of Thomas Hood; includes a brief list of critical and biographical resources. Purchase books by Thomas Hood |
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