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Thomas Hardy (Томас Харди)



Though out of sight now, and as ’twere not the least to us;
Comes she in sorrows, as one bringing peace to us?
Lost to each meadow, each hill-top, each tree around,
Yet the whole truth may her largened sight see around?
Always away from us
She may not stray from us!
Can she, then, know how men’s fatings befall?
Yea indeed, may know well; even know thereof all.

Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
  2. Men Who March Away
  3. On the Belgian Expatriation
  4. An Appeal to America on Behalf of the Belgian Destitute
  5. In Time of Wars and Tumults

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