Poems by Thomas Hardy
Her Song
... I thought not what might shape before ...
The Wistful Lady
... But when I reached where she had seemed to stand, ...
Regret Not Me
... Dreaming, 'I grieve not, therefore nothing grieves ...
To Meet, Or Otherwise
... Cimmerian Through which we grope, and from whose thorns we ache, ...
Song Of The Soldier's Wives.
... " III Some told us we should meet no more, ...
A Death-Day Recalled
... Listless, passed the hour ...
The Woman In The Rye
... ' said I. 'I told him I wished him dead,' said she ...
Beeny Cliff [March 1870 - March 1913]
... V Nay. Though still in chasmal beauty looms that wild weird western shore, ...
Summer Schemes
... Calls again Her little fifers to these hills, ...
We Are Getting to the End
... And hack their pleasant plains in festering seams, ...
The Master And The Leaves
... III We are turning yellow, master, ...
Your Last Drive
... You are past love, praise, indifference, blame ...
The Walk
... Of the look of a room on returning thence ...
After A Journey
... For the stars close their shutters and the dawn whitens hazily ...
The Re-Enactment
... In his mood, That soon I judged he would not wrong my quietude ...
