Poems of the Past and the Present by Thomas Hardy
page 76 of 148 (51%)
page 76 of 148 (51%)
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Eyes mine own meeting,
Is your heart far away, Or with mine beating? When false things are brought low, And swift things have grown slow, Feigning like froth shall go, Faith be for aye. "HOW GREAT MY GRIEF" (TRIOLET) How great my grief, my joys how few, Since first it was my fate to know thee! - Have the slow years not brought to view How great my grief, my joys how few, Nor memory shaped old times anew, Nor loving-kindness helped to show thee How great my grief, my joys how few, Since first it was my fate to know thee? "I NEED NOT GO" I need not go |
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