Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Occultation

When the cloud shut down on the morning shine,
And darkened the sun,
I said, ‘So ended that joy of mine
Years back begun.’

But day continued its lustrous roll
In upper air;
And did my late irradiate soul
Live on somewhere?

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

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