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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


The Love-Letters


    (In Memoriam H.R.)

I met him quite by accident
In a bye-path that he’d frequent.
And, as he neared, the sunset glow
Warmed up the smile of pleasantry
Upon his too thin face, while he
Held a square packet up to me,
Of what, I did not know.

‘Well,’ said he then; ‘they are my old letters.
Perhaps she – rather felt them fetters. . . .
You see, I am in a slow decline,
And she’s broken off with me. Quite right
To send them back, and true foresight;
I’d got too fond of her! To-night
I burn them – stuff of mine!’

He laughed in the sun – an ache in his laughter –
And went. I heard of his death soon after.



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. The End of the Episode
  2. Nobody Comes
  3. The Rejected Member’s Wife
  4. To Carrey Clavel
  5. At Shag’s Heath


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1747


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