Thomas Hood (Томас Гуд (Худ))

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Far above the hollow
Tempest, and its moan,
Singeth bright Apollo
In his golden zone,--
Cloud doth never shade him,
Nor a storm invade him,
On his joyous throne.

So when I behold me
In an orb as bright,
How thy soul doth fold me
In its throne of light!
Sorrow never paineth,
Nor a care attaineth
To that blessed height.

1. Written in Keats' “Endymion”
2. The Poet's Portion
3. Sonnet on Receiving a Gift
4. The World Is with Me
5. Ballad (Sigh on, sad heart, for Love's eclipse)

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