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 End of the Episode
2. Burning the Holly
3. The Second Visit
4. On One Who Lived and Died Where He Was Born
5. The Three Tall Men

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1579

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