Thomas Hardy

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

Thomas Hardy Poems

41. At A Lunar Eclipse 1/4/2003
42. At An Inn 12/31/2002
43. At Castle Boterel 3/16/2003
44. At Lulworth Cove A Century Back 1/3/2003
45. At Moonrise And Onwards 4/10/2010
46. At the Entering of the New Year 12/28/2016
47. At The Railway Station, Upways 1/3/2003
48. At The War Office, London (Affixing The Lists Of Killed And Wounded: December, 1899) 1/4/2003
49. At The War Office, London. 1/1/2004
50. Barthelemon At Vauxhall 4/10/2010
51. Beeny Cliff 3/19/2003
52. Before And After Summer 4/10/2010
53. Before Marching and After 8/31/2015
54. Bereft, She Thinks She Dreams 4/10/2010
55. Between Us Now 1/3/2003
56. Birds At Winter Nightfall (Triolet) 1/4/2003
57. By The Earth's Corpse 1/4/2003
58. Cardinal Bembo's Epitaph On Raphael 1/4/2003
59. Catullus: Xxxi 1/4/2003
60. Channel Firing 1/3/2003
61. Convergence Of The Twain 4/10/2010
62. De Profundis 1/4/2003
63. Departure (Southampton Docks: October, 1899) 1/4/2003
64. Departure. 1/1/2004
65. Ditty 12/31/2002
66. Domicilium 1/3/2003
67. Doom And She 1/4/2003
68. Drummer Hodge 1/3/2003
69. During Wind And Rain 12/31/2002
70. Embarcation 1/3/2003
71. Embarcation (Southampton Docks: October, 1899) 1/4/2003
72. Epeisodia 4/10/2010
73. Epitaph On A Pessimist 1/3/2003
74. Exeunt Omnes 4/10/2010
75. Faintheart In A Railway Train 4/10/2010
76. Fragment 1/3/2003
77. Friends Beyond 12/31/2002
78. From Victor Hugo 1/4/2003
79. From: Men Who March Away 4/10/2010
80. Genoa And The Mediterranean. 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Thomas Hardy

Drummer Hodge

They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined -- just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around:
And foreign constellations west
Each night above his mound.

Young Hodge the drummer never knew --
Fresh from his Wessex home --
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
Strange stars amid the gloam.

Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge for ever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow to some Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
His ...

Read the full of Drummer Hodge

She, To Him, Iv

This love puts all humanity from me;
I can but maledict her, pray her dead,
For giving love and getting love of thee—
Feeding a heart that else mine own had fed!

How much I love I know not, life not known,
Save as some unit I would add love by;
But this I know, my being is but thine own—
Fused from its separateness by ecstasy.

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