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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Sailor’s Mother ‘O whence do you come, Figure in the night-fog that chills me numb?’ ‘I come to you across from my house up there, And I don’t mind the brine-mist clinging to me That blows from the quay, For I heard him in my chamber, and thought you unaware.’ ‘But what did you hear, That brought you blindly knocking in this middle-watch so drear?’ ‘My sailor son’s voice as ’twere calling at your door, And I don’t mind my bare feet clammy on the stones, And the blight to my bones, For he only knows of this house I lived in before.’ ‘Nobody’s nigh, Woman like a skeleton, with socket-sunk eye.’ ‘Ah – nobody’s nigh! And my life is drearisome, And this is the old home we loved in many a day Before he went away; And the salt fog mops me. And nobody’s come!’ From ‘To Please His Wife’ Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1505 |
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