Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Epeisodia

I

Past the hills that peep
Where the leaze is smiling,
On and on beguiling
Crisply-cropping sheep;
Under boughs of brushwood
Linking tree and tree
In a shade of lushwood,
There caressed we!

II

Hemmed by city walls
That outshut the sunlight,
In a foggy dun light,
Where the footstep falls
With a pit-pat wearisome
In its cadency
On the flagstones drearisome
There pressed we!

III

Where in wild-winged crowds
Blown birds show their whiteness
Up against the lightness
Of the clammy clouds;
By the random river
Pushing to the sea,
Under bents that quiver
There shall rest we.

1. The Prophetess
2. The Second Visit
3. I Rose Up as My Custom Is
4. Nothing Matters Much
5. The Forbidden Banns

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1881

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