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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 commons 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, ist 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. The Seven Times
  2. An Ancient to Ancients
  3. Night-Time in Mid-Fall
  4. The Night of the Dance
  5. She, I, and They

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