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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Genitrix Laesa (Measure of a Sarum Sequence) Nature, through these generations You have nursed us with a patience Cruelly crossed by malversations, Marring mother-ministry To your multitudes, so blended By your processes, long-tended, And the painstaking expended On their chording tunefully. But this stuff of slowest moulding, In your fancy ever enfolding Life that rhythmic chime is holding: (Yes; so deem it you, Ladye – This ‘concordia discors’!) – truly, Rather, as if some imp unruly Twitched your artist-arm when newly Shaping forth your scenery! Aye. Yet seem you not to know it. Hence your world-work needs must show it Good in dream, in deed below it: (Lady, yes: so sight it we!) Thus, then, go on fondly thinking: Why should man your purblind blinking Crave to cure, when all is sinking To dissolubility? Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1355 |
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