 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
153
IN TENEBRIS I
“Percussus sum sicut foenum, et aruit cor meum.”
—Ps. ci.
Wintertime nighs;
But my bereavement-pain
It cannot bring again:
Twice no one dies.
But my bereavement-pain
It cannot bring again:
Twice no one dies.
Flower-petals flee;
But, since it once hath been,
No more that severing scene
Can harrow me.
But, since it once hath been,
No more that severing scene
Can harrow me.
Birds faint in dread:
I shall not lose old strength
In the lone frost's black length:
Strength long since fled!
I shall not lose old strength
In the lone frost's black length:
Strength long since fled!
Leaves freeze to dun;
But friends can not turn cold
This season as of old
For him with none.
But friends can not turn cold
This season as of old
For him with none.
Tempests may scath;
But love can not make smart
Again this year his heart
Who no heart hath.
But love can not make smart
Again this year his heart
Who no heart hath.
Black is night's cope;
But death will not appal
One who, past doubtings all,
Waits in unhope.
But death will not appal
One who, past doubtings all,
Waits in unhope.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |