Skip to content
1799–1845

TO AN ABSENTEE.

Thomas Hood

O'er hill, and dale, and distant sea, Through all the miles that stretch between, My thought must fly to rest on thee, And would, though worlds should intervene.

Nay, thou art now so dear, methinks The farther we are forced apart, Affection's firm elastic links But bind the closer round the heart.

For now we sever each from each, I learned what I have lost in thee; Alas, that nothing else could teach How great indeed my love should be!

Farewell! I did not know thy worth; But thou art gone, and now‘ tis prized: So angels walk'd unknown on earth, But when they flew were recognized!

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
TO AN ABSENTEE. · Thomas Hood · Poetry Cove