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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Bereft In the black winter morning No light will be struck near my eyes While the clock in the stairway is warning For five, when he used to rise. Leave the door unbarred, The clock unwound, Make my lone bed hard – Would ’twere underground! When the summer dawns clearly, And the appletree-tops seem alight, Who will undraw the curtain and cheerly Call out that the morning is bright? When I tarry at market No form will cross Durnover Lea In the gathering darkness, to hark at Grey’s Bridge for the pit-pat o’ me. When the supper crock’s steaming, And the time is the time of his tread, I shall sit by the fire and wait dreaming In a silence as of the dead. Leave the door unbarred, The clock unwound, Make my lone bed hard – Would ’twere underground! 1901 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием): Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1552 |
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