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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) In the Seventies ‘Qui deridetur ab amico suo sicut ego.’ – JOB In the seventies I was bearing in my breast, Penned tight, Certain starry thoughts that threw a magic light On the worktimes and the soundless hours of rest In the seventies; aye, I bore them in my breast Penned tight. In the seventies when my neighbours – even my friend – Saw me pass, Heads were shaken, and I heard the words, ‘Alas, For his onward years and name unless he mend!’ In the seventies, when my neighbours and my friend Saw me pass. In the seventies those who met me did not know Of the vision That immuned me from the chillings of misprision And the damps that choked my goings to and fro In the seventies; yea, those nodders did not know Of the vision. In the seventies nought could darken or destroy it, Locked in me, Though as delicate as lamp-worm’s lucency; Neither mist nor murk could weaken or alloy it In the seventies! – could not darken or destroy it, Locked in me. Thomas Hardy's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1394 |
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