The
Bridge of Sighs
by Thomas Hood
| One more Unfortunate |
| Weary of breath, |
| Rashly importunate, |
Gone to her death !
|
| Take her up tenderly, |
| Lift her with care; |
| Fashion’d so slenderly, |
Young, and so fair !
|
| Look at her garments |
| Clinging like cerements; |
| Whilst the wave constantly |
| Drips from her clothing; |
| Take her up instantly, |
Loving, not loathing.
|
| 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.
|
| Make no deep scrutiny |
| Into her mutiny |
| Rash and undutiful: |
| Past all dishonour, |
| Death has left on her |
Only the beautiful.
|
| 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 ?
|
| Who was her father ? |
| Who was her mother ? |
| Had she a sister ? |
| Had she a brother ? |
| Or was there a dearer one |
| Still, and a nearer one |
Yet, than all others ?
|
| Alas ! for the rarity |
| Of Christian charity |
| Under the sun ! |
| O ! it was pitiful ! |
| Near a whole city full, |
Home she had none.
|
| Sisterly, brotherly, |
| Fatherly, motherly |
| Feelings had changed: |
| Love, by harsh evidence, |
| Thrown from its eminence, |
| Even God’s providence |
Seeming estranged.
|
| Where the lamps quiver |
| So far in the river, |
| With many a light |
| From window and casement, |
| From garret to basement, |
| She stood, with amazement, |
Houseless by night.
|
| 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 !
|
| In she plunged boldly, |
| No matter how coldly |
| The rough river ran, |
| Over the brink of it, ― |
| Picture it, think of it, |
| Dissolute Man ! |
| Lave in it, drink of it, |
Then, if you can !
|
| Take her up tenderly, |
| Lift her with care; |
| Fashion’d 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 !
|
| Dreadfully staring |
| Thro’ muddy impurity, |
| As when with the daring |
| Last look of despairing |
Fix’d on futurity.
|
| Perishing gloomily, |
| Spurr’d by contumely, |
| Cold inhumanity, |
| Burning insanity, |
| Into her rest. |
| ―Cross her hands humbly |
| As if praying dumbly, |
Over her breast!
|
| Owning her weakness, |
| Her evil behaviour, |
| And leaving, with meekness, |
Her sins to her Saviour !
|
| Thomas Hood
| Classic Poems |
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[ I Remember, I Remember ] [ The Bridge of Sighs ] [ The Death Bed ] |
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