Thomas Hardy (Òîìàñ Õàðäè)

The Roman Road

The Roman Road runs straight and bare
As the pale parting-line in hair
Across the heath. And thoughtful men
Contrast its days of Now and Then,
And delve, and measure, and compare;

Visioning on the vacant air
Helmed legionaries, who proudly rear
The Eagle, as they pace again
The Roman Road.

But no tall brass-helmed legionnaire
Haunts it for me. Uprises there
A mother’s form upon my ken,
Guiding my infant steps, as when
We walked that ancient thoroughfare,
The Roman Road.

1. The Collector Cleans His Picture
2. Dream of the City Shopwoman
3. To My Father’s Violin
4. If It’s Ever Spring Again
5. The Wanderer

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