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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


Misconception


I busied myself to find a sure
Snug hermitage
That should preserve my Love secure
From the world’s rage;
Where no unseemly saturnals,
Or strident traffic-roars,
Or hum of intervolved cabals
Should echo at her doors.

I laboured that the diurnal spin
Of vanities
Should not contrive to suck her in
By dark degrees,
And cunningly operate to blur
Sweet teachings I had begun;
And then I went full-heart to her
To expound the glad deeds done.

She looked at me, and said thereto
With a pitying smile,
‘And this is what has busied you
So long a while?
O poor exhausted one, I see
You have worn you old and thin
For naught! Those moils you fear for me
I find most pleasure in!’



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. The End of the Episode
  2. Wagtail and Baby
  3. In a Museum
  4. Ten Years Since
  5. The Young Churchwarden


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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1573


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