Seventy-Four And Twenty Poem by Thomas Hardy

Seventy-Four And Twenty

Rating: 2.9


Here goes a man of seventy-four,
Who sees not what life means for him,
And here another in years a score
Who reads its very figure and trim.

The one who shall walk to-day with me
Is not the youth who gazes far,
But the breezy wight who cannot see
What Earth's ingrained conditions are.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy

Dorchester / England
Close
Error Success