Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Just the Same

I sat. It all was past;
Hope never would hail again;
Fair days had ceased at a blast,
The world was a darkened den.

The beauty and dream were gone,
And the halo in which I had hied
So gaily gallantly on
Had suffered blot and died!

I went forth, heedless whither,
In a cloud too black for name:
– People frisked hither and thither;
The world was just the same.

1. Genitrix Laesa
2. Over the Coffin
3. V.R. 1819–1901
4. Song from Heine
5. Song to an Old Burden

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