Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

After the Death of a Friend

You died, and made but little of it! –
Why then should I, when called to doff it,
Drop, and renounce this worm-holed raiment,
Shrink edgewise off from its grey claimant?
Rather say, when I am Time-outrun,
As you did: Take me, and have done,
Inexorable, insatiate one!

1. The End of the Episode
2. Ten Years Since
3. The Young Churchwarden
4. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
5. On One Who Lived and Died Where He Was Born

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1574

Последние стихотворения

To English version