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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Best Times We went a day’s excursion to the stream, Basked by the bank, and bent to the ripple-gleam, And I did not know That life would show, However it might flower, no finer glow. I walked in the Sunday sunshine by the road That wound towards the wicket of your abode, And I did not think That life would shrink To nothing ere it shed a rosier pink. Unlooked for I arrived on a rainy night, And you hailed me at the door by the swaying light, And I full forgot That life might not Again be touching that ecstatic height. And that calm eve when you walked up the stair, After a gaiety prolonged and rare, No thought soever That you might never Walk down again, struck me as I stood there. Rewritten from an old draft Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1355 |
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