Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

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. Paying Calls
2. I Found Her Out There
3. The Opportunity
4. Genitrix Laesa
5. After the Burial

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1990

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