Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Chimes

That morning when I trod the town
The twitching chimes of long renown
Played out to me
The sweet Sicilian sailors’ tune,
And I knew not if late or soon
My day would be:

A day of sunshine beryl-bright
And windless; yea, think as I might,
I could not say,
Even to within years’ measure, when
One would be at my side who then
Was far away.

When hard utilitarian times
Had stilled the sweet Saint-Peter’s chimes
I learnt to see
That bale may spring where blisses are,
And one desired might be afar
Though near to me.

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

Print

2088 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version