Thomas Hardy

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

Thomas Hardy Poems

1. Rain on a Grave 7/14/2015
2. The Pity Of It 4/10/2010
3. The West-Of-Wessex Girl 4/10/2010
4. The Roman Gravemounds 4/10/2010
5. The Telegram 4/10/2010
6. The Respectable Burgher On "The Higher Criticism" 1/4/2003
7. To A Sea-Cliff 3/16/2015
8. The Re-Enactment 4/10/2010
9. Tolerance 4/10/2010
10. The Wistful Lady 4/10/2010
11. The Temporary The All 4/10/2010
12. The Satin Shoes 4/10/2010
13. The Problem 1/4/2003
14. The Sacrilege: (A Ballad-Tragedy) 4/10/2010
15. The Recalcitrants 4/10/2010
16. Welcome Home 4/10/2010
17. The Two Soldiers 4/10/2010
18. The Fallow Deer At The Lonely House 2/7/2015
19. V.R. 1819-1901, A Reverie 1/4/2003
20. The Walk 4/10/2010
21. The Sun On The Bookcase 4/10/2010
22. To Meet, Or Otherwise 4/10/2010
23. The Slow Nature 12/31/2002
24. The Woman In The Rye 4/10/2010
25. The Sleep-Worker 1/4/2003
26. The Spell Of The Rose 4/10/2010
27. Valenciennes 12/31/2002
28. The Supplanter: A Tale 1/4/2003
29. V.R. 1819-1901 (A Reverie.) 1/1/2004
30. The Widow 1/4/2003
31. The Stranger's Song 12/31/2002
32. The Rambler 1/3/2003
33. Thought Of Ph---A At News Of Her Death 12/31/2002
34. The Selfsame Song 1/3/2003
35. The Puzzled Game-Birds (Triolet) 1/4/2003
36. The Sergeant's Song 12/31/2002
37. To Outer Nature 12/31/2002
38. The Temporary The All 12/31/2002
39. We Are Getting To The End 4/10/2010
40. The Sun On The Bookcase 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Thomas Hardy

"I Said To Love"

I said to Love,
"It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
   All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,"
   I said to Love.

   I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
   With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
   I said to him.

   I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, ...

Read the full of "I Said To Love"

The Dream-Follower

A dream of mine flew over the mead
   To the halls where my old Love reigns;
And it drew me on to follow its lead:
   And I stood at her window-panes;

And I saw but a thing of flesh and bone
   Speeding on to its cleft in the clay;
And my dream was scared, and expired on a moan,
   And I whitely hastened away.

[Hata Bildir]