Thomas hood the bridge of sighs. The Bridge of Sighs, by Thomas Hood 2022-10-24
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Thomas Hood was a prolific English poet and humorist during the Romantic era. One of his most famous works is "The Bridge of Sighs," a poem that reflects on the fleeting nature of life and the importance of cherishing every moment.
The poem centers around the idea of the "Bridge of Sighs," which was a real bridge in Venice, Italy that connected the city's prison to the interrogation rooms. According to legend, prisoners would sigh as they crossed the bridge, knowing that they were leaving the beauty of the city behind and facing a bleak future in prison.
Hood uses this metaphor to explore the idea that life is short and we should make the most of every day. He writes: "Take the wings of the morning, and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth; and make the most of life before evening closes in." This line encourages us to seize the day and make the most of our time on earth, rather than waste it.
Throughout the poem, Hood uses vivid imagery to paint a picture of the fleeting nature of life. He describes the "gilded hues" of the morning sky and the "fading tints" of the evening, reminding us that time is constantly moving forward and we must make the most of each moment.
In addition to its themes of cherishing life, "The Bridge of Sighs" also touches on the idea of loss and the pain of saying goodbye. Hood writes: "Weep not for love, nor yet for fame, but for the little flowers that die in infancy." This line suggests that even the smallest and most insignificant things can bring us great sorrow when they are lost.
Overall, "The Bridge of Sighs" is a poignant and thought-provoking poem that encourages us to live life to the fullest and to appreciate the beauty and value of every moment. It serves as a reminder to cherish the time we have, and to make the most of every opportunity that comes our way.
The Bridge Of Sighs by Thomas Hood
At the time of posting this on Goodreads there is only one other review. Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can! Who was her father? Who was her father? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? Cross her hands humbly, As if praying dumbly, Over her breast! Originally, the Bridge of Sighs is a bridge situated in the heart of Venice, Italy. Perishing gloomily, Spurr'd by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. O, it was pitiful! Dreadfully staring Thro' muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fix'd on futurity. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family-- Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily.
These included " The Song of the Shirt", "The Bridge of Sighs" and "The Song of the Labourer". She seems to have committed suicide by jumping off a bridge, after she was thrown out of her home. And leaving with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! Who was her mother? UK: Octopus Publishing Group Ltd. The first four wrote it in novel form, but Hood wrote his in the usage of a poem. Some scholars interpret the cause of her death as something related to pregnancy matters. Moreover, regarded as one of the humorous poets, everyone was stunned when he shifted his way of writing into attacking contemporary poverty.
What are the prosodic features of Thomas Hoods' "Bridge of Sighs"?
Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! Some scholars said, however, that it was the rampant female suicide during those times which gave Hood the urge to write something about it. There is no regular pattern of stanza length, but instead the length of each stanza seems chosen to suit its specific theme rather than for metrical reasons. One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! And so, with this in mind, she ended up jumping off the Waterloo Bridge. Her money has been stolen, so she attempted to kill herself and her children through drowning. Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. ONE more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can! Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged.
Because of that, one of the children died and she was accused of murder. Who was her mother? Who was her Who was her Had she a Had she a Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? Had she a brother? Perishing gloomily, Spurr'd by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. During the last days of his life, he focused on writing about the events in the life of a poor man. The most interesting aspect of the poem, from a prosodic point of view, is its use of falling rhythms. Perishing gloomily, Spurred by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest! Fashioned so slenderly,— Young, and so fair! Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. Near a whole city full, Home she had none. Had she a sister? Take her up tenderly Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair! In times like these, the society should learn how to help these kinds of people instead of pushing them even more to do something that would lead to their suicidal attempts. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. She was a 40-year old woman with children, but no husband. The empathic tribute to an unnamed disowned pregnant young woman who suicides by drowning.
Owning her weakness, Her evil behavior, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to the Savior! It was probably written to put more focus on giving attention to these suicides since it was claimed that men are more likely to kill themselves compared to women. The Bridge of Sighs, by Thomas Hood. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Michael Jackson - All The Songs - The Story Behind Every Track. Who was her mother? Perishing gloomily, Spurr'd by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny, Rash and undutiful; Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. Had she a brother? She seems to have become a suicide by jumping off a bridge, after she was thrown out of her home.
These included The Song of the Shirt, The Bridge of Sighs and The Song of the Labourer. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family— Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even Seeming estranged. Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Perishing gloomily, Spurr'd by contumely, Cold inhumanity, Burning insanity, Into her rest. Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family— Wipe those poor lips of hers Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? The empathic tribute to an unnamed disowned pregnant young woman who suicides by drowning.
In she plunged boldly— No matter how coldly The rough river ran— Over the brink of it! Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? These included " The poem describes the woman as having been immersed in the grimy water, but having been washed so that whatever sins she may have committed are obliterated by the pathos of her death. Dreadfully staring Thro' muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fix'd on futurity. Look at her garments Clinging like cerements, Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing! Several clues in the poem, which harps upon beauty, sins and scorn, hint that the woman was pregnant and had been thrown out of her home. Who was her father? Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can! Near a whole Home she had none. Evidently, the theme of the poem is about the suicide of women in London during those times. Along with Hood's other notable serious poem, The Song of the Shirt, it influenced several Victorian artists. Dreadfully staring Thro' muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fix'd on futurity.
Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity. Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonour, Death has left on her Only the beautiful. And leaving with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! In literature, it also became one of the favourite subjects of most authors. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. Touch her not scornfully! Owning her weakness, Her evil behavior, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly,— Young, and so fair! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, Decently, kindly, Smooth and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Who was her mother? Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun! Lave in it, drink of it, Then, if you can! Who was her father? Had she a brother? Had she a sister? Owning her weakness, Her evil behaviour, And leaving, with meekness, Her sins to her Saviour! ONE more unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river: Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be hurl'd— Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world! Sisterly, brotherly, Fatherly, motherly Feelings had changed: Love, by harsh evidence, Thrown from its eminence; Even God's providence Seeming estranged. It specifically addresses the attempt of seamstress Mary Furley to kill herself and her children after she had been robbed.
