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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


Great Things


Sweet cyder is a great thing,
A great thing to me,
Spinning down to Weymouth town
By Ridgway thirstily,
And maid and mistress summoning
Who tend the hostelry:
O cyder is a great thing,
A great thing to me!

The dance it is a great thing,
A great thing to me,
With candles lit and partners fit
For night-long revelry;
And going home when day-dawning
Peeps pale upon the lea:
O dancing is a great thing,
A great thing to me!

Love is, yea, a great thing,
A great thing to me,
When, having drawn across the lawn
In darkness silently,
A figure flits like one a-wing
Out from the nearest tree:
O love is, yes, a great thing,
A great thing to me!

Will these be always great things,
Great things to me? . . . 
Let it befall that One will call,
‘Soul, I have need of thee:’
What then? Joy-jaunts, impassioned flings,
Love, and its ecstasy,
Will always have been great things,
Great things to me!



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. The End of the Episode
  2. Бартелемон из ВухоллаBarthelemon at Vauxhall
  3. The Month’s Calendar
  4. Revulsion
  5. The Orphaned Old Maid


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1611


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