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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) On the Doorstep She sits in her night-dress without the door, And her father comes up: ‘He at it again?’ He mournfully cries. ‘Poor girlie!’ and then Comes her husband to fetch her in, shamed and sore. The elder strikes him. He falls head-bare On the edge of the step, and lies senseless there. She, seeing him stretched like a corpse at length, Cries out to her father, who stands aghast, ‘I hate you with all my soul and strength! You’ve killed him. And if this word’s my last I hate you... O my husband dear – Live – do as you will! None shall interfere!’ Thomas Hardy's other poems:
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