Poem by Thomas Hardy

Cynic’s Epitaph

A race with the sun as he downed
I ran at evetide,
Intent who should first gain the ground
And there hide.

He beat me by some minutes then,
But I triumphed anon,
For when he’d to rise up again
I stayed on.

1. The Paphian Ball
2. After the Death of a Friend
3. The Superseded
4. To Carrey Clavel
5. The Hatband

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