PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

While researching the Thames river

& some of Shakespeare's comments on it,

I ran across this poem by Thomas Hood;

my heart breaks at the thought

that one poor, innocent girl

could've been so desperate

as to have ended life

from this bridge.

     Oh,! those of you

     who know how to love,

     DO tell someone

     ---even a stranger---

     that they mean something lovely to you!!

     LIE if you have to!!

     To save a life,

     God forgives

     little lovely lies,

     especially if you keep a life

     from falling from off of...



       THE     BRIDGE   OF    SIGHS



One more unfortunate,

weary of breath,

rashly importunate,

gone on to death!

Take her up tenderly!

Lift her with care;

fashioned so slenderly,

so young, so fair!



Look at her garments

clinging like cerements;

whilst the wave constantly

drips from her clothing;

take her up instantly,

loving her, not loathing.





Touch her not scornfully!

Think of her mournfully,

gently and humanly,

not of the stains on her;

all that remains of her

now is Pure, Womanly.



Make no deep scrutiny

into her mutiny,

rash and undutiful;

past all dishonor,

Death has left on her

only this beautiful.



Despite all slips of hers---

one of Eve's family---

wipe those lips of hers

smiling so clammily.



Loop up her tresses

escaped from their comb,

those fair auburn tresses;

whilst wonderment guesses,

"Where is her home?



Who is her father?

Who is her mother?

Has she a sister?

Has she a brother?

Was there a dearer one,

still, and a nearer one

yet than all other?"



In she plunged boldly,

no matter how coldly

that rough river ran;

over the brink of it;

picture it!--think of it!

Dissolute man:

wash in it, drink of it,

NOW, if you can!



Take her up tenderly,

lift her with care;

fashioned soslenderly,

so young and so fair!



E'er her limbs frigidly

stiffen too rigidly,

decently, kindly,

smooth and compose them;

and her eyes: close them,

staring so blindly!



Dreadfully staring

through muddy impurity,

as when with the daring

last lok of despairing,

fixed on futurity.



Perishing gloomily,

spurnred by contumely,

burning insanity,

cold inhumanity,

into her rest.

Cross her hands humbly,

as if praying dumbly,

over her breast.



Owning her weakness,

her desperate behavior,

and leaving, with meekness,

her sins to her Saviour.



Alas; for the rarity

of Christian charity

under the sun!

O!, O!, how 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,

evenGod'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 winds of March

made her tremble and shiver;

but not the dark arch,

nor the black, flowing river;

mad from brief history,

glad to death's mystery

swift to be hurled--

anywhere---ANYWHERE!

just OUT of this world!!