Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

At the Altar-Rail

‘My bride is not coming, alas!’ says the groom,
And the telegram shakes in his hand. ‘I own
It was hurried! We met at a dancing-room
When I went to the Cattle-Show alone,
And then, next night, where the Fountain leaps,
And the Street of the Quarter-Circle sweeps.

‘Ay, she won me to ask her to be my wife –
’Twas foolish perhaps! – to forsake the ways
Of the flaring town for a farmer’s life.
She agreed. And we fixed it. Now she says:
“It’s sweet of you, dear, to prepare me a nest,
But a swift, short, gay life suits me best.
What I really am you have never gleaned;
I had eaten the apple ere you were weaned.” ’

1. The End of the Episode
2. Бартелемон из Вухолла • Barthelemon at Vauxhall
3. The Month’s Calendar
4. Revulsion
5. The Orphaned Old Maid

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1432

Последние стихотворения

To English version