Poem by Thomas Hardy

Looking Back

When formerly we thought, Dear,
Of how our souls were set
On spousals doomed to nought, Dear,
We sickened with regret.

When now we think thereof, Dear,
Although our eyes are wet,
We know what quenches love, Dear,
And we do not regret.

1. At the Word ‘Farewell’
2. The Supplanter
3. Afternoon Service at Mellstock
4. The Children and Sir Nameless
5. Tragedian to Tragedienne

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