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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Curtains Now Are Drawn (Song) I The curtains now are drawn, And the spindrift strikes the glass, Blown up the jaggèd pass By the surly salt sou’-west, And the sneering glare is gone Behind the yonder crest, While she sings to me: ‘O the dream that thou art my Love, be it thine, And the dream that I am thy Love, be it mine, And death may come, but loving is divine.’ II I stand here in the rain, With its smite upon her stone, And the grasses that have grown Over women, children, men, And their texts that ‘Life is vain;’ But I hear the notes as when Once she sang to me: ‘O the dream that thou art my Love, be it thine, And the dream that I am thy Love, be it mine, And death may come, but loving is divine.’ 1913 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1346 |
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