The Voice
Thomas Hardy
Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me, Saying that now you are not as you were When you had changed from the one who was all to me, But as at first, when our day was fair. Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then, Standing as when I drew near to the town Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then, Even to the original air-blue gown! Or is it only the breeze in its listlessness Travelling across the wet mead to me here, You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness, Heard no more again far or near? Thus I; faltering forward, Leaves around me falling, Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward, And the woman calling.
Next 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : The Voice Of Things
- Thomas Hardy : The Well-beloved
- Thomas Hardy : The Widow
- Thomas Hardy : The Wind Blew Words
- Thomas Hardy : The Year's Awakening
- Thomas Hardy : The Young Churchwarden
- Thomas Hardy : Then And Now
- Thomas Hardy : Thought Of Ph---a At News Of Her Death
- Thomas Hardy : Thoughts Of Phena
- Thomas Hardy : Timing Her
Previous 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : The Two Men
- Thomas Hardy : The Tree: An Old Man's Story
- Thomas Hardy : The To-be-forgotten
- Thomas Hardy : The Tenant-for-life
- Thomas Hardy : The Temporary The All
- Thomas Hardy : The Supplanter: A Tale
- Thomas Hardy : The Superseded
- Thomas Hardy : The Sun On The Bookcase
- Thomas Hardy : The Subalterns
- Thomas Hardy : The Stranger's Song