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Poem by Thomas Hardy


On a Heath


I could hear a gown-skirt rustling
Before I could see her shape,
Rustling through the heather
That wove the common’s drape,
On that evening of dark weather
When I hearkened, lips agape.

And the town-shine in the distance
Did but baffle here the sight,
And then a voice flew forward:
‘Dear, is’t you? I fear the night!’
And the herons flapped to norward
In the firs upon my right.

There was another looming
Whose life we did not see;
There was one stilly blooming
Full nigh to where walked we;
There was a shade entombing
All that was bright of me.



Thomas Hardy


Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. Before My Friend Arrived
  2. Copying Architecture in an Old Minster
  3. A Woman Driving
  4. A Victorian Rehearsal
  5. The Turnip-Hoer


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