All Poems
/ page 3014 of 3210 /Midnight On The Great Western
© Thomas Hardy
In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy,
And the roof-lamp's oily flame
Played down on his listless form and face,
Bewrapt past knowing to what he was going,
Or whence he came.
She Hears The Storm
© Thomas Hardy
There was a time in former years--
While my roof-tree was his--
When I should have been distressed by fears
At such a night as this!
Domicilium
© Thomas Hardy
It faces west, and round the back and sides
High beeches, bending, hang a veil of boughs,
And sweep against the roof. Wild honeysucks
Climb on the walls, and seem to sprout a wish
(If we may fancy wish of trees and plants)
To overtop the apple trees hard-by.
Birds at Winter Nightfall (Triolet)
© Thomas Hardy
Around the house the flakes fly faster,
And all the berries now are gone
From holly and cotoneaster
Around the house. The flakes fly!--faster
An Ancient To Ancients
© Thomas Hardy
Where once we danced, where once we sang,
Gentlemen,
The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang,
And cracks creep; worms have fed upon
Between Us Now
© Thomas Hardy
Between us now and here--
Two thrown together
Who are not wont to wear
Life's flushest feather--
At a Lunar Eclipse
© Thomas Hardy
Thy shadow, Earth, from Pole to Central Sea,
Now steals along upon the Moon's meek shine
In even monochrome and curving line
Of imperturbable serenity.
When I Set Out For Lyonnesse
© Thomas Hardy
When I set out for Lyonnesse,
A hundred miles away,
The rime was on the spray,
And starlight lit my lonesomeness
When I set out for Lyonnesse
A hundred miles away.
Departure
© Thomas Hardy
While the far farewell music thins and fails,
And the broad bottoms rip the bearing brine -
All smalling slowly to the gray sea line -
And each significant red smoke-shaft pales,
Her Death And After
© Thomas Hardy
'TWAS a death-bed summons, and forth I went
By the way of the Western Wall, so drear
On that winter night, and sought a gate--
The home, by Fate,
Of one I had long held dear.
The Dance At The Phoenix
© Thomas Hardy
To Jenny came a gentle youth
From inland leazes lone;
His love was fresh as apple-blooth
By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone.
In The Moonlight
© Thomas Hardy
"O lonely workman, standing there
In a dream, why do you stare and stare
At her grave, as no other grave where there?"
Transformations
© Thomas Hardy
Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew,
Bosomed here at its foot:
This branch may be his wife,
A ruddy human life
Now turned to a green shoot.
The Masked Face
© Thomas Hardy
I found me in a great surging space,
At either end a door,
And I said: "What is this giddying place,
With no firm-fixéd floor,
That I knew not of before?"
"It is Life," said a mask-clad face.
Ditty
© Thomas Hardy
(E. L. G.)BENEATH a knap where flown
Nestlings play,
Within walls of weathered stone,
Far away
I Have Lived With Shades
© Thomas Hardy
II have lived with Shades so long,
So long have talked to them,
I sped to street and throng,
That sometimes they
Thoughts Of Phena
© Thomas Hardy
at news of her death Not a line of her writing have I
Not a thread of her hair,
No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby
I may picture her there;
The Farm Woman's Winter
© Thomas Hardy
IIf seasons all were summers,
And leaves would never fall,
And hopping casement-comers
Were foodless not at all,
The Tree: An Old Man's Story
© Thomas Hardy
Its roots are bristling in the air
Like some mad Earth-god's spiny hair;
The loud south-wester's swell and yell
Smote it at midnight, and it fell.
Thus ends the tree
Where Some One sat with me.