The Sun Was Slumbering in the West

Thomas Hood 1799 (London) – 1845 (London)



The sun was slumbering in the West,
My daily labors past;
On Anna's soft and gentle breast
My head reclined at last;
The darkness closed around, so dear
To fond congenial souls,
And thus she murmur'd at my ear,
"My love, we're out of coals!

"That Mister Bond has call'd again,
Insisting on his rent;
And all the Todds are coming up
To see us, out of Kent --
I quite forgot to tell you John
Has had a tipsy fall --
I'm sure there's something going on
WIth that vile Mary Hall!

"Miss Bell has bought the sweetest silk,
And I have bought the rest --
Of course, if we go out of town,
Southend will be the best.
I really think the Jones's house
Would be the thing for us;
I think I told you Mrs. Pope
Had parted with her hus --

"Cook , by the way, came up today,
To bid me suit myself --
And what d'ye think? The rats have gnaw'd
The victuals on the shelf,
And, lord! there's such a letter come,
Inviting you to fight!
Of course you don't intend to go --
God bless you, dear, good night!"

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:02 min read
100

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABABXCXC XDXDEFEF XAXAXXXC XGXGXHXH
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 991
Words 199
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 8, 8, 8, 8

Thomas Hood

Thomas Hood was a British humorist and poet. His son, Tom Hood, became a well known playwright and editor. more…

All Thomas Hood poems | Thomas Hood Books

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