Thomas Hardy

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

Song From Heine - Poem by Thomas Hardy

I scanned her picture dreaming,
   Till each dear line and hue
Was imaged, to my seeming,
   As if it lived anew.

Her lips began to borrow
   Their former wondrous smile;
Her fair eyes, faint with sorrow,
   Grew sparkling as erstwhile.

Such tears as often ran not
   Ran then, my love, for thee;
And O, believe I cannot
   That thou are lost to me!


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Read poems about / on: believe, sorrow, smile, lost, song, love, running, dream



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



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