Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Just the Same

I sat. It all was past;
Hope never would hail again;
Fair days had ceased at a blast,
The world was a darkened den.

The beauty and dream were gone,
And the halo in which I had hied
So gaily gallantly on
Had suffered blot and died!

I went forth, heedless whither,
In a cloud too black for name:
– People frisked hither and thither;
The world was just the same.

1. The Chimes Play ‘Life’s a Bumper!’
2. Premonitions
3. The Hatband
4. The Oxen
5. Plena Timoris

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1899

Последние стихотворения

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