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She At His Funeral

EY bear him to his resting-place— In slow procession sweeping by; I follow at a stranger's space; His kindred they, his sweetheart I. Unchanged my gown of garish dye, Though sable-sad is their attire; But they stand round with griefless eye, Whilst my regret consumes like fire!

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Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy OM (2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928) was an English novelist and poet. A Victorian realist in the tradition of George Eliot, he was i

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I felt a Funeral in my Brain

I felt a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it seemed That sense was breaking through.

Emily Dickinson

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To His Coy Mistress

Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.

Andrew Marvell

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She Walks In Beauty

I. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright

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She At His Funeral

Thomas Hardy

The Convergence Of The Twain

I In a solitude of the sea Deep from human vanity, And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she II Steel chambers, late the pyres Of her salamandrine fires, Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres II Over the ...

The Workbox

See, here's the workbox, little wife, That I made of polished oak 'He was a joiner, of village life; She came of borough folk He holds the present up to her As with a smile she And answers to the profferer, ''Twill last all my sewin...

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AM Dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert's kin, and John's, and Ned's, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now Gone, I call them, gone for good, that group of local hearts and...

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Сегодня читают

I felt a Funeral in my Brain

I felt a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it seemed That sense was breaking through.

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.

She Walks In Beauty

I. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright

Проснутся в Фамагусте

Ты помнишь, как не зная устали, Брели по пляжам Фамагусты. Какие кебабы были в кафе D&B. Как ядрами собор Николая разбит. Предстояние запада и востока,

Как гоблин свою монетку искал

Суррогатное псевдоматеринство

She At His Funeral

Thomas Hardy

Другие работы автора

The Convergence Of The Twain

I In a solitude of the sea Deep from human vanity, And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she II Steel chambers, late the pyres Of her salamandrine fires, Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres II Over the ...

The Workbox

See, here's the workbox, little wife, That I made of polished oak 'He was a joiner, of village life; She came of borough folk He holds the present up to her As with a smile she And answers to the profferer, ''Twill last all my sewin...

Friends Beyond

AM Dewy, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow late at plough, Robert's kin, and John's, and Ned's, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, lie in Mellstock churchyard now Gone, I call them, gone for good, that group of local hearts and...

Thoughts of Phena at the News of Her Death

Not a line of her writing have I Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize At her close, whom I knew when her dreams...

Сегодня читают

I felt a Funeral in my Brain

I felt a funeral in my brain, And mourners, to and fro, Kept treading, treading, till it seemed That sense was breaking through.

To His Coy Mistress

Had we but World enough, and Time, This coyness Lady were no crime. We would sit down, and think which To walk, and pass our long Loves Day.

She Walks In Beauty

I. She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright

Проснутся в Фамагусте

Ты помнишь, как не зная устали, Брели по пляжам Фамагусты. Какие кебабы были в кафе D&amp;B. Как ядрами собор Николая разбит. Предстояние запада и востока,

Как гоблин свою монетку искал

Суррогатное псевдоматеринство

Ты помнишь, как не зная устали, Брели по пляжам Фамагусты. Какие кебабы были в кафе D&B. Как ядрами собор Николая разбит. Предстояние запада и востока,