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Poem
March 8, 1844
The Liberator
Boston, Suffolk County, Massachusetts
What is this article about?
Humorous poem by Thomas Hood playfully arguing against early rising, preferring the comfort of bed with puns on nature, literature, and daily life, mocking the virtues of dawn awakenings.
Clipping
OCR Quality
98%
Excellent
Full Text
MORNING MEDITATIONS.
BY THOMAS HOOD.
Let Taylor preach upon a morning breezy;
How well to rise while night and larks are flying—
For my part, getting up seems not so easy
By half as LYING.
What if the lark does carol in the sky,
Soaring beyond the sight to find him out—
Wherefore am I to rise at such a fly?
I'm not a trout.
Tell not to me of bees and such like hums,
They smell of sweet herbs at the morning prime—
Only lie long enough, and bed becomes
A bed of THYME.
To me Dan Phoebus and his cars are naught,
His steeds that paw impatiently about;
Let them enjoy, say I, as horses ought,
The first turn-out.
Right beautiful the dewy meads appear,
Besprinkled by the rosy fingered girl—
What then—if I prefer my pillow dear
To early PEARL?
My stomach is not ruled by other men's,
And, grumbling for a season, quaintly begs,
Wherefore should master rise before the hens
Have laid the eggs?
Why from a comfortable pillow start,
To see faint flushes in the east awaken—
A fig, say I, for any streaky part,
Excepting bacon.
An early riser Mr. Gray has drawn,
Who used to haste the dewy grass among,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn—
Well—he died young.
With charwomen do such early hours agree,
And sweeps that earn betimes their bite and sup,
But I'm no climbing boy, and will not be
All up—all up!
So here I'll lie, my morning call deferring,
Till something nearer to the stroke of noon:
A man that's fond precociously of STIRRING,
Must be a SPOON.
BY THOMAS HOOD.
Let Taylor preach upon a morning breezy;
How well to rise while night and larks are flying—
For my part, getting up seems not so easy
By half as LYING.
What if the lark does carol in the sky,
Soaring beyond the sight to find him out—
Wherefore am I to rise at such a fly?
I'm not a trout.
Tell not to me of bees and such like hums,
They smell of sweet herbs at the morning prime—
Only lie long enough, and bed becomes
A bed of THYME.
To me Dan Phoebus and his cars are naught,
His steeds that paw impatiently about;
Let them enjoy, say I, as horses ought,
The first turn-out.
Right beautiful the dewy meads appear,
Besprinkled by the rosy fingered girl—
What then—if I prefer my pillow dear
To early PEARL?
My stomach is not ruled by other men's,
And, grumbling for a season, quaintly begs,
Wherefore should master rise before the hens
Have laid the eggs?
Why from a comfortable pillow start,
To see faint flushes in the east awaken—
A fig, say I, for any streaky part,
Excepting bacon.
An early riser Mr. Gray has drawn,
Who used to haste the dewy grass among,
To meet the sun upon the upland lawn—
Well—he died young.
With charwomen do such early hours agree,
And sweeps that earn betimes their bite and sup,
But I'm no climbing boy, and will not be
All up—all up!
So here I'll lie, my morning call deferring,
Till something nearer to the stroke of noon:
A man that's fond precociously of STIRRING,
Must be a SPOON.
What sub-type of article is it?
Satire
Epigram
What themes does it cover?
Satire Society
Moral Virtue
What keywords are associated?
Morning Meditations
Thomas Hood
Lying In Bed
Early Rising
Satirical Puns
Bed Comfort
What entities or persons were involved?
By Thomas Hood.
Poem Details
Title
Morning Meditations.
Author
By Thomas Hood.
Subject
On Reluctance To Rise Early
Form / Style
Rhymed Quatrains With Puns
Key Lines
For My Part, Getting Up Seems Not So Easy
By Half As Lying.
Wherefore Am I To Rise At Such A Fly?
I'm Not A Trout.
Only Lie Long Enough, And Bed Becomes
A Bed Of Thyme.
Well—He Died Young.
A Man That's Fond Precociously Of Stirring,
Must Be A Spoon.