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• He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way, Tormenting himself with his prickles.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Dream...
• Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold! Bright and yellow, hard and cold.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Moral...
• Seem'd washing his hands with invisible soap In imperceptible water.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Christening...
• Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old To the very verge of the churchyard mould.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Miss Kilmansegg, Her Moral...
• We watch'd her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- The Death-Bed...
• Oh would I were dead now, Or up in my bed now, To cover my head now, And have a good cry!
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- A Table of Errata...
• Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied
  We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died....
• BEER.COM not found. [G]o to bed [R]un to store [P]ass out here.
• And so to bed.