Time's Laughingstocks and Other Verses by Thomas Hardy
page 146 of 158 (92%)
page 146 of 158 (92%)
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Says Patience: "Why are we apart? Small harm did you, my poor Sweet Heart! A manchild born, now tall and beautiful, Was worth the ache of days undutiful." And Anne cries: "O the time was fair, So wherefore should you burn down there? There is a deed under the sun, my Love, And that was ours. What's done is done, my Love. These trumpets here in Heaven are dumb to me With you away. Dear, come, O come to me!" THE NOBLE LADY'S TALE (circa 1790) I "We moved with pensive paces, I and he, And bent our faded faces Wistfully, For something troubled him, and troubled me. "The lanthorn feebly lightened Our grey hall, |
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