humorist and poet
. His son, Tom Hood
, became a well known playwright and editor.
He was born in London to Thomas Hood and Elizabeth Sands in the Poultry (Cheapside) above his father's bookshop. Hood's paternal family had been Scottish farmers from the village of Errol near Dundee. The Elder Hood was a partner in the business of Verner, Hood, and Sharp, and was a member of the Associated booksellers.
I remember, I rememberThe house where I was born,The little window where the sunCame peeping in at morn;He never came a wink too soonNor brought too long a day;But now, I often wish the nightHad borne my breath away.
I remember, I rememberThe fir-trees dark and high;I used to think their slender topsWere close against the sky:It was a childish ignorance,But now 'tis little joyTo know I'm farther off from HeavenThan when I was a boy.
There's not a string attuned to mirthBut has its chord in melancholy.
Never go to FranceUnless you know the lingo,If you do, like me,You will repent, by jingo.