Poem by Thomas Hardy

Something Tapped

Something tapped on the pane of my room
When there was never a trace
Of wind or rain, and I saw in the gloom
My weary Belovéd’s face.

‘O I am tired of waiting,’ she said,
‘Night, morn, noon, afternoon;
So cold it is in my lonely bed,
And I thought you would join me soon!’

I rose and neared the window-glass,
But vanished thence had she:
Only a pallid moth, alas,
Tapped at the pane for me.

1. Genitrix Laesa
2. V.R. 1819–1901
3. Over the Coffin
4. Song from Heine
5. Song to an Old Burden

Print

1621 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version