Thomas Hardy

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

Thomas Hardy Poems

121. The Re-Enactment 4/10/2010
122. The Sweet Hussy 4/10/2010
123. From: Men Who March Away 4/10/2010
124. Exeunt Omnes 4/10/2010
125. Aquae Sulis 4/10/2010
126. I Was Not He 4/10/2010
127. She Charged Me 4/10/2010
128. Thoughts Of Phena 1/3/2003
129. The To-Be-Forgotten 1/3/2003
130. Doom And She 1/4/2003
131. The Seasons Of Her Year 1/4/2003
132. In Vision I Roamed 12/31/2002
133. The Rambler 1/3/2003
134. Revulsion 12/31/2002
135. Wives In The Sere 1/4/2003
136. The Coquette, And After (Triolets) 1/4/2003
137. Amabel 12/31/2002
138. The Problem 1/4/2003
139. To An Orphan Child 12/31/2002
140. Heiress And Architect 12/31/2002
141. San Sebastian 12/31/2002
142. At The War Office, London (Affixing The Lists Of Killed And Wounded: December, 1899) 1/4/2003
143. She Hears The Storm 4/10/2010
144. After The Visit 4/10/2010
145. The Satin Shoes 4/10/2010
146. The Wistful Lady 4/10/2010
147. In The Days Of Crinoline 4/10/2010
148. The Elopement 4/10/2010
149. After Schiller 1/4/2003
150. De Profundis 1/4/2003
151. The Church-Builder 1/3/2003
152. From Victor Hugo 1/4/2003
153. Fragment 1/3/2003
154. The Contretemps 1/3/2003
155. Architectural Masks 1/3/2003
156. My Cicely 12/31/2002
157. The Superseded 1/4/2003
158. The Sick God 1/4/2003
159. At An Inn 12/31/2002
160. Ditty 12/31/2002

Comments about Thomas Hardy

  • Nonono (11/29/2017 5:04:00 AM)

    Could you possibly do anything worse to brilliant poetry than have it read by this hideous transatlantic robotic voice? No wonder people don't think they like poetry. Pay an actor to do it properly or don't have a sound clip at all.

    5 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Ed Baidya Baidya (12/18/2015 3:35:00 AM)

    'Ah, I was wondering what would break first: your spirit, or your body! '-Thomas Hardy.Bane

  • Ed Baidya Baidya (12/18/2015 3:32:00 AM)

    Thomas hardy was sick in mad max: fury road

  • Corazone Aquino Corazone Aquino (7/22/2015 11:31:00 AM)

    I like. I am going to use it to teach styles in Form three class. beautiful. I wish I could get an analysis from you before I try doing it my way.

  • Dicklyn Penistrap (5/18/2015 3:40:00 PM)

    penispenispenispenispenis dick

  • Arthur Tugman (11/5/2011 4:51:00 PM)

    To every failure there’s Hell
    and all success is heavenly.
    - Arthur Tugman

  • Arthur Tugman (11/5/2011 4:46:00 PM)

    Come hither or go yon
    in your quest for success
    or else be content
    to dither in failure.
    - Arthur Tugman

    Come hither or go yon
    in your quest for success
    or else be content
    to dither in failure.
    - Arthur Tugman

  • Maricel Padilla (6/13/2006 9:13:00 PM)

    Hi Thomas...........Hello...... How are you? this is Maricel from Philippines and i would like to tell you that you are very good and great so much in your poet......i like it very much........i hope you can tell me what is your secret there how to write a poet like that you wrote....ok...heheh joke only....cus you know i dont have yet one poet that i write here, its great for you........well anyway thomas thanks again for your very nice poet........ok takecare there always and have a nice to day to you there and to all...............see you! ! !
    always,
    Maricel

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

The Dream-Follower

A dream of mine flew over the mead
   To the halls where my old Love reigns;
And it drew me on to follow its lead:
   And I stood at her window-panes;

And I saw but a thing of flesh and bone
   Speeding on to its cleft in the clay;
And my dream was scared, and expired on a moan,
   And I whitely hastened away.

[Report Error]