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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) A Second Attempt Thirty years after I began again An old-time passion: And it seemed as fresh as when The first day ventured on: When mutely I would waft her In Love’s past fashion Dreams much dwelt upon, Dreams I wished she knew. I went the course through, From Love’s fresh-found sensation – Remembered still so well – To worn words charged anew, That left no more to tell: Thence to hot hopes and fears, And thence to consummation, And thence to sober years, Markless, and mellow-hued. Firm the whole fabric stood, Or seemed to stand, and sound As it had stood before. But nothing backward climbs, And when I looked around As at the former times, There was Life – pale and hoar; And slow it said to me, ‘Twice-over cannot be!’ Thomas Hardy's other poems:
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