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Lost Love Post by :wildgingerinn Category :Poems Author :Thomas Hardy Date :December 2010 Read :1580

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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 such
A woman as I was born!

(The end)
Thomas Hardy's poem: Lost Love

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'my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound' "my Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound"

'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 graysHither and thither along the waysI and another used to know In backward days.And there you'll find me, if a jot You still should careFor 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"

The Face At The Casement The Face At The Casement

The Face At The Casement
If ever joy leaveAn abiding sting of sorrow,So befell it on the morrow Of that May eve . . . The travelled sun droppedTo the north-west, low and lower,The pony's trot grew slower, And then we stopped. "This cosy house just byI must call at for a minute,A sick man lies within it Who soon will die. "He wished to marry me,So I am bound, when I drive near him,To inquire, if but to cheer him, How he may be." A message was sent in,And wordlessly we waited,Till some one came and stated The bulletin. And that the sufferer said,For her