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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) To Louisa in the Lane Meet me again as at that time In the hollow of the lane; I will not pass as in my prime I passed at each day’s wane. – Ah, I remember! To do it you will have to see Anew this sorry scene wherein you have ceased to be! But I will welcome your aspen form As you gaze wondering round And say with spectral frail alarm, ‘Why am I still here found? – Ah, I remember! It is through him with blitheful brow Who did not love me then, but loves and draws me now!’ And I shall answer: ‘Sweet of eyes, Carry me with you, Dear, To where you donned this spirit-guise; It’s better there than here!’ – Till I remember Such is a deed you cannot do: Wait must I, till with flung-off flesh I follow you. Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1611 |
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