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Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy

She, to Him, III

I will be faithful to thee; aye, I will!
And Death shall choose me with a wondering eye
That he did not discern and domicile
One his by right ever since that last Good-bye!
 
I have no care for friends, or kin, or prime
Of manhood who deal gently with me here;
Amid the happy people of my time
Who work their love’s fulfilment, I appear
 
Numb as a vane that cankers on its point,
True to the wind that kissed ere canker came;
Despised by souls of Now, who would disjoint
The mind from memory, and make Life all aim,
 
My old dexterities of hue quite gone,
And nothing left for Love to look upon.

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Other works by Thomas Hardy...
I looked up from my writing

I looked up from my writing, And gave a start to see, As if rapt in my inditing, The moon's full gaze on me. Her meditative misty head
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At a Bridal

WHEN you paced forth, to wait ma… A dream of other offspring held my… Compounded of us twain as Love de… Rare forms, that corporate now wil… Should I, too, wed as slave to Mo…
The Inconsistent

I say, “She was as good as fair,”    When standing by her mound; “Such passing sweetness,” I decla…    "No longer treads the ground." I say, "What living Love can catc…
The Bullfinches

Bother Bulleys, let us sing    From the dawn till evening! - For we know not that we go not    When the day’s pale pinions fol…    Unto those who sang of old.
A Spot

In years defaced and lost,    Two sat here, transport-tossed,    Lit by a living love The wilted world knew nothing of:    Scared momently
The Temporary the All

CHANGE and chancefulness in my… Set me sun by sun near to one unch… Wrought us fellowly, and despite d… Friends interblent us. “Cherish him can I while the true…
The Colonel’s Soliloquy (Southampton Docks: October, 1899)

"The quay recedes. Hurrah! Ahead… It’s true I’ve been accustomed no… And joints get rusty, and one’s li…    More fit to rest than roam. "But I can stand as yet fair stre…
A Meeting With Despair

AS evening shaped I found me on a… Which sight could scarce sustain: The black lean land, of featureles… Was like a tract in pain. “This scene, like my own life,” I…
Her Initials

Upon a poet’€™s page I wrote Of old two letters of her name; Part seemed she of the effulgent t… Whence that high singer’€™s raptur… '€”When now I turn the leaf the s…
The Maid of Keinton Mandeville (A Tribute to Sir H. Bishop)

I hear that maiden still Of Keinton Mandeville Singing, in flights that played As wind-wafts through us all, Till they made our mood a thrall
Tess’s Lament

I would that folk forgot me quite,    Forgot me quite! I would that I could shrink from…    And no more see the sun. Would it were time to say farewell…
A Commonplace Day

The day is turning ghost, And scuttles from the kalendar in…    To join the anonymous host Of those that throng oblivion; ced…    To one of like degree.
A Thunderstorm in Town

She wore a 'terra-cotta’ dress, And we stayed, because of the pelt… Within the hansom’s dry recess, Though the horse had stopped; yea,… We sat on, snug and warm.
The Well

I wayed by star and planet shine    Towards the dear one’s home At Kingsbere, there to make her m…    When the next sun upclomb. I edged the ancient hill and wood
The Respectable Burgher on “The Higher Criticism”

Since Reverend Doctors now declar… That clerks and people must prepar… To doubt if Adam ever were; To hold the flood a local scare; To argue, though the stolid stare,



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