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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Our Old Friend Dualism All hail to him, the Protean! A tough old chap is he: Spinoza and the Monists cannot make him cease to be. We pound him with our ‘Truth, Sir, please!’ and quite appear to still him: He laughs; holds Bergson up, and James; and swears we cannot kill him. We argue them pragmatic cheats. ‘Aye,’ says he. ‘They’re deceiving: But I must live; for flamens plead I am all that’s worth believing!’ 1920 Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1330 |
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