Thomas Hood was an English poet and humorist born in 1799 and died in 1845. He was born just above his father’s book shop.
Although he loved London, his hometown, he always found the winter months dreary. London’s frequent fog and smog were infamous around the world.
This is a poem about the dreariness of winter. I think many people in the Poconos will be able to relate to this work.
“No!” by Thomas Hood
No sun—no moon! No morn—no noon— No dawn— No sky—no earthly view— No distance looking blue— No road—no street—no "t'other side the way"— No end to any Row— No indications where the Crescents go— No top to any steeple— No recognitions of familiar people— No courtesies for showing 'em— No knowing 'em! No traveling at all—no locomotion, No inkling of the way—no notion— "No go"—by land or ocean— No mail—no post— No news from any foreign coast— No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility— No company—no nobility— No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member— No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November!
Click on this link to hear me read it: https://youtu.be/XFsrPacW390
Funding has been provided by the Pennsylvania Humanities Council and the National Endowment for the Humanities (NEH) as part of the Corona Virus Aid, Relief, and Economic Security (CARES) Act of 2020.