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 The Superseded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

Print

1865 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version