Thomas Hardy

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

When I Set Out for Lyonnesse


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.

What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there
No prophet durst declare,
Nor did the wisest wizard guess
What would bechance at Lyonnesse
While I should sojourn there.

When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes,
All marked with mute surmise
My radiance rare and fathomless,
When I came back from Lyonnesse
With magic in my eyes!

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Daphne Grant (3/20/2006 3:35:00 PM)

    It is is it not a most remarkable thing, that when one of Hardies novels ran into controversy, he turned to poetry and gave us some of the best poetry of his time.
    I don't think he wrote another novel after that. But his novels portray Wessex as it was then and are most valuable in the history of Dorset.
    Daphne (Report) Reply

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