Poem by Thomas Hardy

Aberdeen

(April: 1905)

I looked and thought, ‘All is too gray and cold
To wake my place-enthusiasms of old!’
Till a voice passed: ‘Behind that granite mien
Lurks the imposing beauty of a Queen.’
I looked anew; and saw the radiant form
Of Her who soothes in stress, who steers in storm,
On the grave influence of whose eyes sublime
Men count for the stability of the time.

1. An Expostulation
2. Her Love-Birds
3. The Collector Cleans His Picture
4. The Aërolite
5. The Harvest-Supper

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