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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Her Late Husband (King’s Hintock, 182–) ‘No – not where I shall make my own; But dig his grave just by The woman’s with the initialed stone – As near as he can lie – After whose death he seemed to ail, Though none considered why. ‘And when I also claim a nook, And your feet tread me in, Bestow me, in my maiden name, Among my kith and kin, That strangers gazing may not dream I did a husband win.’ ‘Widow, your wish shall be obeyed: Though, thought I, certainly You’d lay him where your folk are laid, And your grave, too, will be, As custom hath it; you to right, And on the left hand he.’ ‘Aye, sexton; such the Hintock rule, And none has said it nay; But now you find a native here Eschews that ancient way . . . And it may be, some Christmas night, When angels walk, they’ll say: ‘ “O strange interment! Civilized lands Afford few types thereof; Here is a man who takes his rest Beside his very Love, Beside the one who was his wife In our sight up above!” ’ Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1418 |
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