Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses. Thomas Hardy

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Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses - Thomas Hardy

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TIME OF WARS AND TUMULTS

       IN TIME OF “THE BREAKING OF NATIONS” [235]

       CRY OF THE HOMELESS AFTER THE PRUSSIAN INVASION OF BELGIUM

       BEFORE MARCHING AND AFTER (in Memoriam F. W. G.)

       “OFTEN WHEN WARRING”

       THEN AND NOW

       A CALL TO NATIONAL SERVICE

       THE DEAD AND THE LIVING ONE

       A NEW YEAR’S EVE IN WAR TIME

       “I MET A MAN”

       “I LOOKED UP FROM MY WRITING”

       FINALE

       THE COMING OF THE END

       AFTERWARDS

       Table of Contents

      That mirror

       Which makes of men a transparency,

       Who holds that mirror

       And bids us such a breast-bare spectacle see

       Of you and me?

      That mirror

       Whose magic penetrates like a dart,

       Who lifts that mirror

       And throws our mind back on us, and our heart,

       Until we start?

      That mirror

       Works well in these night hours of ache;

       Why in that mirror

       Are tincts we never see ourselves once take

       When the world is awake?

      That mirror

       Can test each mortal when unaware;

       Yea, that strange mirror

       May catch his last thoughts, whole life foul or fair,

       Glassing it—where?

       Table of Contents

      Forty Augusts—aye, and several more—ago,

       When I paced the headlands loosed from dull employ,

       The waves huzza’d like a multitude below

       In the sway of an all-including joy

       Without cloy.

      Blankly I walked there a double decade after,

       When thwarts had flung their toils in front of me,

       And I heard the waters wagging in a long ironic laughter

       At the lot of men, and all the vapoury

       Things that be.

      Wheeling change has set me again standing where

       Once I heard the waves huzza at Lammas-tide;

       But they supplicate now—like a congregation there

       Who murmur the Confession—I outside,

       Prayer denied.

       (Wooer’s Song)

       Table of Contents

      Why be at pains that I should know

       You sought not me?

       Do breezes, then, make features glow

       So rosily?

       Come, the lit port is at our back,

       And the tumbling sea;

       Elsewhere the lampless uphill track

       To uncertainty!

      O should not we two waifs join hands?

       I am alone,

       You would enrich me more than lands

       By being my own.

       Yet, though this facile moment flies,

       Close is your tone,

       And ere to-morrow’s dewfall dries

       I plough the unknown.

       (Bournemouth, 1875)

       Table of Contents

      We sat at the window looking out,

       And the rain came down like silken strings

       That Swithin’s day. Each gutter and spout

       Babbled unchecked in the busy way

       Of witless things:

       Nothing to read, nothing to see

       Seemed in that room for her and me

      

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