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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


Penance


‘Why do you sit, O pale thin man,
At the end of the room
By that harpsichord, built on the quaint old plan?
– It is cold as a tomb,
And there’s not a spark within the grate;
And the jingling wires
Are as vain desires
That have lagged too late.’

‘Why do I? Alas, far times ago
A woman lyred here
In the evenfall; one who fain did so
From year to year;
And, in loneliness bending wistfully,
Would wake each note
In sick sad rote,
None to listen or see!

‘I would not join. I would not stay,
But drew away,
Though the winter fire beamed brightly... Aye!
I do to-day
What I would not then; and the chill old keys,
Like a skull’s brown teeth
Loose in their sheath,
Freeze my touch; yes, freeze.’



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. A Victorian Rehearsal
  2. Song to an Old Burden
  3. Long Plighted
  4. Paths of Former Time
  5. The Gap in the White


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • John McCrae (Джон Маккрей) Penance ("My lover died a century ago")

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