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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди)) Silences There is the silence of a copse or croft When the wind sinks dumb, And of a belfry-loft When the tenor after tolling stops its hum. And there’s the silence of a lonely pond Where a man was drowned, Nor nigh nor yond A newt, frog, toad, to make the merest sound. But the rapt silence of an empty house Where oneself was born, Dwelt, held carouse With friends, is of all silences most forlorn! Past are remembered songs and music-strains Once audible there: Roof, rafters, panes Look absent-thoughted, tranced, or locked in prayer. It seems no power on earth can waken it Or rouse its rooms, Or its past permit The present to stir a torpor like a tomb’s. Thomas Hardy's other poems:
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