Thomas Hardy (2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928 / Dorchester / England)
Genoa and the Mediterranean.
O epic-famed, god-haunted Central Sea,
Heave careless of the deep wrong done to thee
When from Torino's track I saw thy face first flash on me.
And multimarbled Genova the Proud,
Gleam all unconscious how, wide-lipped, up-browed,
I first beheld thee clad--not as the Beauty but the Dowd.
Out from a deep-delved way my vision lit
On housebacks pink, green, ochreous--where a slit
Shoreward 'twixt row and row revealed the classic blue through it.
And thereacross waved fishwives' high-hung smocks,
Chrome kerchiefs, scarlet hose, darned underfrocks;
Since when too oft my dreams of thee, O Queen, that frippery mocks:
Whereat I grieve, Superba! . . . Afterhours
Within Palazzo Doria's orange bowers
Went far to mend these marrings of thy soul-subliming powers.
But, Queen, such squalid undress none should see,
Those dream-endangering eyewounds no more be
Where lovers first behold thy form in pilgrimage to thee.
Poet Other Poems
- "Between Us Now"
- "How Great My Grief" (Triolet)
- "I Have Lived With Shades"
- "I Said to Love"
- [Greek Title]
- A Broken Appointment
- A Christmas Ghost Story.
- A Circular
- A Commonplace Day
- A Confession To A Friend in Trouble
- A Death-Day Recalled
- A Dream Or No
- A Jog-Trot Pair
- A King's Soliloquy [On the Night of His ...
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.