In A Museum
Thomas Hardy
I Here's the mould of a musical bird long passed from light, Which over the earth before man came was winging; There's a contralto voice I heard last night, That lodges in me still with its sweet singing. II Such a dream is Time that the coo of this ancient bird Has perished not, but is blent, or will be blending Mid visionless wilds of space with the voice that I heard, In the full-fugued song of the universe unending. EXETER.
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Next 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : In A Wood
- Thomas Hardy : In A Wook
- Thomas Hardy : In Tenebris
- Thomas Hardy : In The Moonlight
- Thomas Hardy : In The Old Theatre, Fiesole.
- Thomas Hardy : In The Vaulted Way
- Thomas Hardy : In Time Of The Breaking Of Nations
- Thomas Hardy : In Vision I Roamed
- Thomas Hardy : Joys Of Memory
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Previous 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : In A Eweleaze Near Weatherbury
- Thomas Hardy : I Said To Love
- Thomas Hardy : I Need Not Go
- Thomas Hardy : I Look Into My Glass
- Thomas Hardy : I Have Lived With Shades
- Thomas Hardy : How Great My Grief ( Triolet )
- Thomas Hardy : His Immortality
- Thomas Hardy : Heredity
- Thomas Hardy : Her Reproach
- Thomas Hardy : Her Late Husband ( King's-hintock, 182-. )