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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) She, to Him. 2 Perhaps, long hence, when I have passed away, Some other’s feature, accent, thought like mine, Will carry you back to what I used to say, And bring some memory of your love’s decline. Then you may pause awhile and think, ‘Poor jade!’ And yield a sigh to me – as ample due, Not as the tittle of a debt unpaid To one who could resign her all to you – And thus reflecting, you will never see That your thin thought, in two small words conveyed, Was no such fleeting phantom-thought to me, But the Whole Life wherein my part was played; And you amid its fitful masquerade A Thought – as I in your life seem to be! 1866 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1383 |
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