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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) The Slow Nature (An Incident of Froom Valley) ‘Thy husband – poor, poor Heart! – is dead – Dead, out by Moreford Rise; A bull escaped the barton-shed, Gored him, and there he lies!’ – ‘Ha, ha – go away! ’Tis a tale, methink, Thou joker Kit!’ laughed she. ‘I’ve known thee many a year, Kit Twink, And ever hast thou fooled me!’ – ‘But, Mistress Damon – I can swear Thy goodman John is dead! And soon th’lt hear their feet who bear His body to his bed.’ So unwontedly sad was the merry man’s face – That face which had long deceived – That she gazed and gazed; and then could trace The truth there; and she believed. She laid a hand on the dresser-ledge, And scanned far Egdon-side; And stood; and you heard the wind-swept sedge And the rippling Froom; till she cried: ‘O my chamber’s untidied, unmade my bed, Though the day has begun to wear! “What a slovenly hussif!” it will be said, When they all go up my stair!’ She disappeared; and the joker stood Depressed by his neighbour’s doom, And amazed that a wife struck to widowhood Thought first of her unkempt room. But a fortnight thence she could take no food, And she pined in a slow decay; While Kit soon lost his mournful mood And laughed in his ancient way. 1894 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1533 |
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