Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Just the Same

I sat. It all was past;
Hope never would hail again;
Fair days had ceased at a blast,
The world was a darkened den.

The beauty and dream were gone,
And the halo in which I had hied
So gaily gallantly on
Had suffered blot and died!

I went forth, heedless whither,
In a cloud too black for name:
– People frisked hither and thither;
The world was just the same.

1. If You Had Known
2. The Seven Times
3. The To-Be-Forgotten
4. Boys Then and Now
5. The Woman in the Rye

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1981

Последние стихотворения

To English version