Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
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
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsThe Haunter
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
The Haunter Post by :pedantic Category :Poems Author :Thomas Hardy Date :December 2010 Read :1711

Click below to download : The Haunter (Format : PDF)

The Haunter

He does not think that I haunt here nightly:
How shall I let him know
That whither his fancy sets him wandering
I, too, alertly go? -
Hover and hover a few feet from him
Just as I used to do,
But cannot answer his words addressed me -
Only listen thereto!

When I could answer he did not say them:
When I could let him know
How I would like to join in his journeys
Seldom he wished to go.
Now that he goes and wants me with him
More than he used to do,
Never he sees my faithful phantom
Though he speaks thereto.

Yes, I accompany him to places
Only dreamers know,
Where the shy hares limp long paces,
Where the night rooks go;
Into old aisles where the past is all to him,
Close as his shade can do,
Always lacking the power to call to him,
Near as I reach thereto!

What a good haunter I am, O tell him,
Quickly make him know
If he but sigh since my loss befell him
Straight to his side I go.
Tell him a faithful one is doing
All that love can do
Still that his path may be worth pursuing,
And to bring peace thereto.


(The end)
Thomas Hardy's poem: Haunter

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

The Voice The Voice

The Voice
Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,Saying that now you are not as you wereWhen you had changed from the one who was all to me,But as at first, when our day was fair.Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,Standing as when I drew near to the townWhere you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,Even to the original air-blue gown!Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessnessTravelling across the wet mead to me here,You being ever consigned to existlessness,Heard no more again far or near? Thus I;
PREVIOUS BOOKS

Lament Lament

Lament
How she would have lovedA party to-day! -Bright-hatted and gloved,With table and trayAnd chairs on the lawnHer smiles would have shoneWith welcomings . . . ButShe is shut, she is shut From friendship's spell In the jailing shell Of her tiny cell.Or she would have reignedAt a dinner to-nightWith ardours unfeigned,And a generous delight;All in her abodeShe'd have freely bestowedOn her guests . . . But alas,She is shut under grass Where no cups flow, Powerless to know That it might be so.And she would have soughtWith a child's eager glanceThe shy snowdrops broughtBy the new year's advance,And peered in the
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT