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Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))


* * *


When I set out for Lyonnesse,
A hundred miles away,
The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness
When I set out for Lyonnesse
A hundred miles away.

What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there
No prophet durst declare,
Nor did the wisest wizard guess
What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there.

When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes,
All marked with mute surmise
My radiance rare and fathomless,
When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes!

1870

Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. Paying Calls
  2. In Front of the Landscape
  3. Joys of Memory
  4. I Found Her Out There
  5. She Charged Me


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Английская поэзия