I 

A shaded lamp and a waving blind, 
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor: 
On this scene enter--winged, horned, and spined - 
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore; 
While 'mid my page there idly stands 
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands . . . 

II 

Thus meet we five, in this still place, 
At this point of time, at this point in space. 
- My guests parade my new-penned ink, 
Or bang at the lamp-glass, whirl, and sink. 
"God's humblest, they!" I muse. Yet why? 
They know Earth-secrets that know not I. 

Added: on May 29th, 2006 at 4:46 AM | Viewed: 7624 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Thomas Hardy
Poem: An August Midnight

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