Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Comet at Yell’ham

I

It bends far over Yell’ham Plain,
And we, from Yell’ham Height,
Stand and regard its fiery train,
So soon to swim from sight.

II

It will return long years hence, when
As now its strange swift shine
Will fall on Yell’ham; but not then
On that sweet form of thine.

1. Paying Calls
2. Joys of Memory
3. I Found Her Out There
4. Often When Warring
5. The Wind’s Prophecy

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 2018

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