Thomas Hardy

(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928 / Dorchester / England)

To A Lady - Poem by Thomas Hardy

Offended by a Book of the Writer's

NOW that my page upcloses, doomed, maybe,
Never to press thy cosy cushions more,
Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretofore,
Or stir thy gentle vows of faith in me:

Knowing thy natural receptivity,
I figure that, as flambeaux banish eve,
My sombre image, warped by insidious heave
Of those less forthright, must lose place in thee.

So be it. I have borne such. Let thy dreams
Of me and mine diminish day by day,
And yield their space to shine of smugger things;
Till I shape to thee but in fitful gleams,
And then in far and feeble visitings,
And then surcease. Truth will be truth alway.


Comments about To A Lady by Thomas Hardy

  • Rookie Olga P (2/18/2007 9:16:00 PM)

    But was it worth at all? To live and feel, and enjoy each moment of Life or to suffer... This life, yet was it still a life or a living death, or perhaps, a perishing life? (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Rookie Daphne Grant (3/20/2006 3:57:00 PM)

    The writer has accepted his fate: this lady has lost her faith in him, but he reckons he has writen the truth, and is prepared to pay the price ah sadness is apon him but he soldiers on. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: truth, faith, lost, dream



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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