Late Lyrics and Earlier : with Many Other Verses by Thomas Hardy
page 163 of 212 (76%)
page 163 of 212 (76%)
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Like lead on each breast,
Should we cloak the tidings, or call her and tell? It was too intense A choice for our sense, As we pondered and watched her we loved so well. Yea, spirit failed us At what assailed us; How long, while seeing what soon must come, Should we counterfeit No knowledge of it, And stay the stroke that would blanch and numb? And thus, before For evermore Joy left her, we practised to beguile Her innocence when She now and again Looked in, and smiled us another smile. THE PASSER-BY (L. H. RECALLS HER ROMANCE) He used to pass, well-trimmed and brushed, My window every day, And when I smiled on him he blushed, |
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