Det finns mer av Thomas Hardy än Tess of the d’Urbervilles. Jag hade ingen aning om att han hade skrivit så mycket poesi som han har. Men nu vet jag!
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I said to Love,
”It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,”
I said to Love.
”It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,”
I said to Love.
I said to him,
”We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would’st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,”
I said to him.
I said to Love,
”Thou art not young, thou art not fair,
No faery darts, no cherub air,
Nor swan, nor dove
Are thine; but features pitiless,
And iron daggers of distress,”
I said to Love.
”Depart then, Love! . . .
– Man’s race shall end, dost threaten thou?
The age to come the man of now
Know nothing of? –
We fear not such a threat from thee;
We are too old in apathy!
Mankind shall cease.–So let it be,”
I said to Love.
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Stories from the city, stories from the sea 