Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Voice of Things

Forty Augusts – aye, and several more – ago,
When I paced the headlands loosed from dull employ,
The waves huzza’d like a multitude below
In the sway of an all-including joy
Without cloy.

Blankly I walked there a double decade after,
When thwarts had flung their toils in front of me,
And I heard the waters wagging in a long ironic laughter
At the lot of men, and all the vapoury
Things that be.

Wheeling change has set me again standing where
Once I heard the waves huzza at Lammas-tide;
But they supplicate now – like a congregation there
Who murmur the Confession – I outside,
Prayer denied.

1. The End of the Episode
2. Ten Years Since
3. The Young Churchwarden
4. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
5. On One Who Lived and Died Where He Was Born

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1610

Последние стихотворения

To English version