 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
51
A MEETING WITH DESPAIR
As evening shaped I found me on a moor
Sight shunned to entertain:
The black lean land, of featureless contour,
Was like a tract in pain.
Sight shunned to entertain:
The black lean land, of featureless contour,
Was like a tract in pain.
“This scene, like my own life,” I said, “is one
Where many glooms abide;
Toned by its fortune to a deadly dun—
Lightless on every side.”
Where many glooms abide;
Toned by its fortune to a deadly dun—
Lightless on every side.”
I glanced aloft and halted, pleasure-caught
To see the contrast there:
The ray-lit clouds gleamed glory; and I thought,
“There's solace everywhere!”
To see the contrast there:
The ray-lit clouds gleamed glory; and I thought,
“There's solace everywhere!”
Then bitter self-reproaches as I stood
I dealt me silently
As one perverse, misrepresenting Good
In graceless mutiny.
I dealt me silently
As one perverse, misrepresenting Good
In graceless mutiny.
Against the horizon's dim-discernèd wheel
A form rose, strange of mould:
That he was hideous, hopeless, I could feel
Rather than could behold.
A form rose, strange of mould:
That he was hideous, hopeless, I could feel
Rather than could behold.
“'Tis a dead spot, where even the light lies spent
To darkness!” croaked the Thing.
“Not if you look aloft!” said I, intent
On my new reasoning.
To darkness!” croaked the Thing.
“Not if you look aloft!” said I, intent
On my new reasoning.
“Yea—but await awhile!” he cried. “Ho-ho!—
Now look aloft and see!”
I looked. There, too, sat night: Heaven's radiant show
Had gone that heartened me.
Now look aloft and see!”
I looked. There, too, sat night: Heaven's radiant show
Had gone that heartened me.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |