Menu
Friday, January 3, 2003

She, To Him, I

Rating: 2.9
When you shall see me lined by tool of Time,
My lauded beauties carried off from me,
My eyes no longer stars as in their prime,
My name forgot of Maiden Fair and Free;

When in your being heart concedes to mind,
And judgment, though you scarce its process know,
Recalls the excellencies I once enshrined,
And you are irked that they have withered so:

Remembering that with me lies not the blame,
That Sportsman Time but rears his brood to kill,
Knowing me in my soul the very same—
One who would die to spare you touch of ill!—
Will you not grant to old affection’s claim
The hand of friendship down Life’s sunless hill?
Thomas Hardy
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS
Aaron Marchant 24 September 2018
A wonderfully observed poem on the transience of beauty and youth and the hope that love endures beyond the ephemeral aesthetic. The closing plea 'Will you not grant to old affection’s claim The hand of friendship down Life’s sunless hill? ' Surely, one of the finest lines in English literature...
0 0 Reply

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

1/17/2021 1:56:42 AM # 1.0.0.396