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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) A Spot In years defaced and lost, Two sat here, transport-tossed, Lit by a living love The wilted world knew nothing of: Scared momently By gaingivings, Then hoping things That could not be. Of love and us no trace Abides upon the place; The sun and shadows wheel, Season and season sereward steal; Foul days and fair Here, too, prevail, And gust and gale As everywhere. But lonely shepherd souls Who bask amid these knolls May catch a faery sound On sleepy noontides from the ground: "O not again Till Earth outwears Shall love like theirs Suffuse this glen!" Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2108 |
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