In years defaced and lost, 
   Two sat here, transport-tossed, 
   Lit by a living love 
The wilted world knew nothing of: 
   Scared momently 
   By gaingivings, 
   Then hoping things 
   That could not be. 

   Of love and us no trace 
   Abides upon the place; 
   The sun and shadows wheel, 
Season and season sereward steal; 
   Foul days and fair 
   Here, too, prevail, 
   And gust and gale 
   As everywhere. 

   But lonely shepherd souls 
   Who bask amid these knolls 
   May catch a faery sound 
On sleepy noontides from the ground: 
   "O not again 
   Till Earth outwears 
   Shall love like theirs 
   Suffuse this glen!" 

Added: Apr 1 2005 | Viewed: 565 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Thomas Hardy
Poem: A Spot

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