Thomas Hood
Thomas Hood
Embedded Files
-Born in 1799 in London; died in 1845 also in London
-Editor, publisher, poet, and humorist
-After his father's death in 1811, he worked in a countinghouse until an illness forced him to move to Scotland where his relatives could care for him
-In 1818, he moved back to London and worked as an engraver
-In 1824, he married Jane Reynolds
-His first full collection, The Plea of the Midsummer Fairies, and Other Poems, was published in 1827
-In the 1830s, he traveled Europe and lived with family in Belgium
-In 1841, he received a grant from the Royal Literary Fund due to suffering from "ill health and troubled finances"
-"Song of the Shirt", the poem I will be analyzed, was published in 1843 as part of a magazine called Punch and was written in honor of Mrs. Biddell, a widow and seamstress living in terrible conditions
"Song of the Shirt"
"Song of the Shirt"
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread—
Stitch—stitch—stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch
She sang the “Song of the Shirt.”
“Work—work—work,
Till the brain begins to swim;
Work—work—work,
Till the eyes are heavy and dim!
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Till over the buttons I fall asleep,
And sew them on in a dream!
“O, men, with sisters dear!
O, men, with mothers and wives!
It is not linen you’re wearing out,
But human creatures’ lives!
Stitch—stitch—stitch,
In poverty, hunger and dirt,
Sewing at once, with a double thread,
A Shroud as well as a Shirt.
“But why do I talk of Death?
That phantom of grisly bone,
I hardly fear his terrible shape,
It seems so like my own—
It seems so like my own,
Because of the fasts I keep;
Oh, God! that bread should be so dear.
And flesh and blood so cheap!
“Work—work—work!
My labour never flags;
And what are its wages?
A bed of straw,
A crust of bread and rags.
That shatter’d roof, and this naked floor—
A table—a broken chair—
And a wall so blank, my shadow I thank
For sometimes falling there!
“Work—work—work!
From weary chime to chime,
Work—work—work,
As prisoners work for crime!
Band, and gusset, and seam,
Seam, and gusset, and band,
Till the heart is sick,
and the brain benumb’d,
As well as the weary hand.
“Work—work—work,
In the dull December light,
And work—work—work,
When the weather is warm and bright—
While underneath the eaves
The brooding swallows cling,
As if to show me their sunny backs
And twit me with the spring.
“O! but to breathe the breath
Of the cowslip and primrose sweet—
With the sky above my head,
And the grass beneath my feet;
For only one short hour
To feel as I used to feel,
Before I knew the woes of want
And the walk that costs a meal:
“O! but for one short hour!
A respite however brief!
No blessed leisure for Love or hope,
But only time for grief!
A little weeping would ease my heart,
But in their briny bed
My tears must stop, for every drop
Hinders needle and thread!”
With fingers weary and worn,
With eyelids heavy and red,
A woman sat, in unwomanly rags,
Plying her needle and thread—
Stitch—stitch—stitch!
In poverty, hunger, and dirt,
And still with a voice of dolorous pitch,
Would that its tone could reach the Rich!
She sang this “Song of the Shirt!”
Analysis
Hood describes the harsh reality of sewing and everything the people in that profession must endure, comparing the singer to Death to describe the relationship between the two due to constant hunger and fasting as well as explaining the grueling conditions under which a seamstress is forced to live based on the small wages. The seamstress compares herself to Death to describe to the audience a sort of connection with something so similar, something that has loomed in the background during her lifespan as a seamstress, making Death feel more friend than foe. Some lines, such as “It feels so like my own” prove that Death lingers around those that sew for their livelihood, examining prolonged hunger due to the incredibly low wages. The minimal food they manage to find is precious and held dear because they are paid such a small amount, hardly enough to sustain themselves, which validates the relationship of the singer to Death. With hunger always on the horizon, the seamstress no longer fears Death and instead almost seems to find solace in something so familiar. This constant, never-ending hunger stems from minimal wages, which forces the seamstress to live in miserable conditions. The song proceeds to the repetition of the word “work” to emphasize that the singer’s life revolves around endless sewing that provides terrible living conditions. The stark descriptions Hood uses when depicting the lifestyle seamstresses are forced into puts even more of a spotlight on the poverty level of those that sew for their livelihood. The singer takes this further when explaining that the conditions are so bleak and bare that she thanks her own shadow for putting something on her wall. Yet despite such grueling and heart-wrenching conditions, the singer continues to sew, never ceasing, seeing the need to keep working. The seamstresses essentially are killing themselves through their jobs and lifestyle and yet have no other way to live. They are trapped in this terrible loop of sewing shirts, hardly receiving any compensation, spending what little they do make on means of survival, and barely surviving at that, and then sewing more, without end until their ultimate death. Despite repeatedly describing the harshness of sewing life, the song always comes full circle back to the need to continue sewing. There seems to almost be an implied addiction to the needle and thread that ultimately controls their lifespan. By utilizing the constant repetition of the word “work” as well as “stitch” and more subtle repetitions, the singer emphasizes specific points, those points being more blatant and based around the need to continue sewing no matter what. With the repetition of entire lines, the emphasis broadens to encapsulate a sense of fleeing sanity as well. She describes a similarity between herself and Death, creating a sense of the singer beginning to lose her mind simply by spending her life sewing and focusing entirely on this task that takes all of her time and energy while providing little to nothing in return.
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