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Full Online Book HomePoemsTo Meet, Or Otherwise
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To Meet, Or Otherwise Post by :kerwin Category :Poems Author :Thomas Hardy Date :December 2010 Read :2127

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To Meet, Or Otherwise

Whether to sally and see thee, girl of my dreams,
Or whether to stay
And see thee not! How vast the difference seems
Of Yea from Nay
Just now. Yet this same sun will slant its beams
At no far day
On our two mounds, and then what will the difference weigh!

Yet I will see thee, maiden dear, and make
The most I can
Of what remains to us amid this brake Cimmerian
Through which we grope, and from whose thorns we ache,
While still we scan
Round our frail faltering progress for some path or plan.

By briefest meeting something sure is won;
It will have been:
Nor God nor Daemon can undo the done,
Unsight the seen,
Make muted music be as unbegun,
Though things terrene
Groan in their bondage till oblivion supervene.

So, to the one long-sweeping symphony
From times remote
Till now, of human tenderness, shall we
Supply one note,
Small and untraced, yet that will ever be
Somewhere afloat
Amid the spheres, as part of sick Life's antidote.

(The end)
Thomas Hardy's poem: To Meet, Or Otherwise

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The Difference The Difference

The Difference
ISinking down by the gate I discern the thin moon,And a blackbird tries over old airs in the pine,But the moon is a sorry one, sad the bird's tune,For this spot is unknown to that Heartmate of mine.IIDid my Heartmate but haunt here at times such as now,The song would be joyous and cheerful the moon;But she will see never this gate, path, or bough,Nor I find a joy in the scene or the tune.(The end)Thomas Hardy's poem: Difference

After The Visit After The Visit

After The Visit
(To F. E. D.)  Come again to the placeWhere your presence was as a leaf that skimsDown a drouthy way whose ascent bedims The bloom on the farer's face. Come again, with the feetThat were light on the green as a thistledown ball,And those mute ministrations to one and to all Beyond a man's saying sweet. Until then the faint scentOf the bordering flowers swam unheeded away,And I marked not the charm in the changes of day As the cloud-colours came and went. Through the dark corridorsYour walk was so soundless I did not knowYour form from a phantom's of long