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Thomas Hardy (Томас Харди)


To a Motherless Child


A Whimsey

AH, child, thou art but half thy darling mother's;
Hers couldst thou wholly be,
My light in thee would outglow all in others;
She would relive to me.
But niggard Nature's trick of birth
Bars, lest she overjoy,
Renewal of the loved on earth
Save with alloy.

The Dame has no regard, alas, my maiden,
For love and loss like mine--
No sympathy with mind-sight memory-laden;
Only with fickle eyne.
To her mechanic artistry
My dreams are all unknown,
And why I wish that thou couldst be
But One's alone! 



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
  2. Men Who March Away
  3. On the Belgian Expatriation
  4. An Appeal to America on Behalf of the Belgian Destitute
  5. In Time of Wars and Tumults


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