Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoems"my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound"
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
'my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound' Post by :RichRick Category :Poems Author :Thomas Hardy Date :December 2010 Read :2686

Click below to download : "my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound" (Format : PDF)

"my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound"

My spirit will not haunt the mound
Above my breast,
But travel, memory-possessed,
To where my tremulous being found
Life largest, best.

My phantom-footed shape will go
When nightfall grays
Hither and thither along the ways
I and another used to know
In backward days.

And there you'll find me, if a jot
You still should care
For me, and for my curious air;
If otherwise, then I shall not,
For you, be there.

(The end)
Thomas Hardy's poem: "My Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound"

If you like this book please share to your friends :

Wessex Heights (1896) Wessex Heights (1896)

Wessex Heights (1896)
There are some heights in Wessex, shaped as if by a kindly handFor thinking, dreaming, dying on, and at crises when I stand,Say, on Ingpen Beacon eastward, or on Wylls-Neck westwardly,I seem where I was before my birth, and after death may be.In the lowlands I have no comrade, not even the lone man's friend -Her who suffereth long and is kind; accepts what he is too weak tomend:Down there they are dubious and askance; there nobody thinks as I,But mind-chains do not clank where one's next neighbour is the sky.In the towns I am tracked by phantoms having weird detective

Lost Love Lost Love

Lost Love
I play my sweet old airs - The airs he knew When our love was true - But he does not balk His determined walk,And passes up the stairs.I sing my songs once more, And presently hear His footstep near As if it would stay; But he goes his way,And shuts a distant door.So I wait for another morn And another night In this soul-sick blight; And I wonder much As I sit, why suchA woman as I was born!(The end)Thomas Hardy's poem: Lost Love