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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


Christmastide


The rain-shafts splintered on me
As despondently I strode;
The twilight gloomed upon me
And bleared the blank high-road.
Each bush gave forth, when blown on
By gusts in shower and shower,
A sigh, as it were sown on
In handfuls by a sower.

A cheerful voice called, nigh me,
‘A merry Christmas, friend!’ –
There rose a figure by me,
Walking with townward trend,
A sodden tramp’s, who, breaking
Into thin song, bore straight
Ahead, direction taking
Toward the Casuals’ gate.



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. A Victorian Rehearsal
  2. Song to an Old Burden
  3. The Gap in the White
  4. The Dead Bastard
  5. Her Reproach


Poems of another poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Emily Johnson (Эмили Джонсон) Christmastide ("I may not go to-night to Bethlehem")

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    Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1532


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