Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Suspense

A clamminess hangs over all like a clout,
The fields are a water-colour washed out,
The sky at its rim leaves a chink of light,
Like the lid of a pot that will not close tight.

She is away by the groaning sea,
Strained at the heart, and waiting for me:
Between us our foe from a hid retreat
Is watching, to wither us if we meet. . . .

But it matters little, however we fare –
Whether we meet, or I get not there;
The sky will look the same thereupon,
And the wind and the sea go groaning on.

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

Emily Dickinson (Эмили Дикинсон) Suspense ("Elysium is as far as to")

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1716

Последние стихотворения

To English version