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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Lady in the Furs ‘I’m a lofty lovely woman,’ Says the lady in the furs, In the glance she throws around her On the poorer dames and sirs: ‘This robe, that cost three figures, Yes, is mine,’ her nod avers. ‘True, my money did not buy it, But my husband’s, from the trade; And they, they only got it From things feeble and afraid By murdering them in ambush With a cunning engine’s aid. ‘True, my hands, too, did not shape it To the pretty cut you see, But the hands of midnight workers Who are strangers quite to me: It was fitted, too, by dressers Ranged around me toilsomely. ‘But I am a lovely lady, Though sneerers say I shine By robbing Nature’s children Of apparel not mine, And that I am but a broom-stick, Like a scarecrow’s wooden spine.’ Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1378 |
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