Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Dissemblers

‘It was not you I came to please,
Only myself,’ flipped she;
‘I like this spot of phantasies,
And thought you far from me.’
But O, he was the secret spell
That led her to the lea!

‘It was not she who shaped my ways,
Or works, or thoughts,’ he said.
‘I scarcely marked her living days,
Or missed her much when dead.’
But O, his joyance knew its knell
When daisies hid her head!

1. The End of the Episode
2. Barthelemon at Vauxhall
3. The Month’s Calendar
4. The Second Visit
5. Revulsion

Print

1606 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version