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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


The Woman in the Rye


‘Why do you stand in the dripping rye,
Cold-lipped, unconscious, wet to the knee,
When there are firesides near?’ said I.
‘I told him I wished him dead,’ said she.

‘Yea, cried it in my haste to one
Whom I had loved, whom I well loved still;
And die he did. And I hate the sun,
And stand here lonely, aching, chill;

‘Stand waiting, waiting under skies
That blow reproach, the while I see
The rooks sheer off to where he lies
Wrapt in a peace withheld from me!’



Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. The End of the Episode
  2. Ten Years Since
  3. The Young Churchwarden
  4. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
  5. The Child and the Sage


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