Unknowing
Thomas Hardy
WHEN, soul in soul reflected, We breathed an thered air, When we neglected All things elsewhere, And left the friendly friendless To keep our love aglow, We deemed it endless... --We did not know! When, by mad passion goaded, We planned to hie away, But, unforeboded, The storm-shafts gray So heavily down-pattered That none could forthward go, Our lives seemed shattered... --We did not know! When I found you, helpless lying, And you waived my deep misprise, And swore me, dying, In phantom-guise To wing to me when grieving, And touch away my woe, We kissed, believing... --We did not know! But though, your powers outreckoning, You hold you dead and dumb, Or scorn my beckoning, And will not come; And I say, "'Twere mood ungainly To store her memory so:" I say it vainly-- I feel and know!
4 Sure-fire Ways to Make Money Online : Join Text-Link-Ads and make money via text link ads || Join Adbrite and make money showing text link ads || Join Chitika and make money via a mini-mall || Use DreamHost for your hosting; 97 day money back guarantee ||
Useful Sites : Poetiv : 15,000+ Poems by 150+ Poets || Proverbatim : 25,000+ World Proverbs || Advertise here via PennyPerPageAds.com
Useful Sites : Poetiv : 15,000+ Poems by 150+ Poets || Proverbatim : 25,000+ World Proverbs || Advertise here via PennyPerPageAds.com
Next 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : V.r. 1819-1901 ( A Reverie. )
- Thomas Hardy : Valenciennes
- Thomas Hardy : Waiting Both
- Thomas Hardy : We Sat At The Window
- Thomas Hardy : Weathers
- Thomas Hardy : When I Set Out For Lyonnesse
- Thomas Hardy : Why Be At Pains?
- Thomas Hardy : Winter In Durnover Field
- Thomas Hardy : Wives In The Sere
- Thomas Hardy : You Were The Sort That Men Forget
Previous 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : Under The Waterfall
- Thomas Hardy : Transformations
- Thomas Hardy : To The Moon
- Thomas Hardy : To Shakespeare After Three Hundred Years
- Thomas Hardy : To Outer Nature
- Thomas Hardy : To My Father's Violin
- Thomas Hardy : To Lizbie Browne
- Thomas Hardy : To Life
- Thomas Hardy : To Flowers From Italy In Winter
- Thomas Hardy : To An Unborn Pauper Child