Thomas Hardy (2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928 / Dorchester / England)
Shelley's Skylark (The neighbourhood of Leghorn: March, 1887)
Somewhere afield here something lies
In Earth's oblivious eyeless trust
That moved a poet to prophecies -
A pinch of unseen, unguarded dust
The dust of the lark that Shelley heard,
And made immortal through times to be; -
Though it only lived like another bird,
And knew not its immortality.
Lived its meek life; then, one day, fell -
A little ball of feather and bone;
And how it perished, when piped farewell,
And where it wastes, are alike unknown.
Maybe it rests in the loam I view,
Maybe it throbs in a myrtle's green,
Maybe it sleeps in the coming hue
Of a grape on the slopes of yon inland scene.
Go find it, faeries, go and find
That tiny pinch of priceless dust,
And bring a casket silver-lined,
And framed of gold that gems encrust;
And we will lay it safe therein,
And consecrate it to endless time;
For it inspired a bard to win
Ecstatic heights in thought and rhyme.
Thomas Hardy's 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 ...
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