Thomas Hardy Poems

That night your great guns, unawares,
Shook all our coffins as we lay,
And broke the chancel window-squares,
We thought it was the judgement day
...

In years defaced and lost,
   Two sat here, transport-tossed,
   Lit by a living love
The wilted world knew nothing of:
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Beeny did not quiver,
Juliot grew not gray,
Thin Valency's river
Held its wonted way.
...

I MARK the months in liveries dank and dry,
The day-tides many-shaped and hued;
I see the nightfall shades subtrude,
And hear the monotonous hours clang negligently by.
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There trudges one to a merry-making
With sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.
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O the opal and the sapphire of that wandering western sea,
And the woman riding high above with bright hair flapping free-
The woman whom I loved so, and who loyally loved me.
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THEY sing their dearest songs--
He, she, all of them--yea,
Treble and tenor and bass.
And one to play;
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Why did you give no hint that night
That quickly after the morrow's dawn,
And calmly, as if indifferent quite,
You would close your term here, up and be gone
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In a solitude of the sea
Deep from human vanity,
And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she.
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I am the family face;
Flesh perishes, I live on,
Projecting trait and trace
Through time to times anon,
...