 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
THE MUSING MAIDEN
“Why so often, silent one,
Do you steal away alone?”
Starting, half she turned her head,
And guiltily she said:—
Do you steal away alone?”
Starting, half she turned her head,
And guiltily she said:—
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“When the vane points to his far town
I go upon the hog-backed down,
And think the breeze that stroked his lip
Over my own may slip.
I go upon the hog-backed down,
And think the breeze that stroked his lip
Over my own may slip.
“When he walks at close of day
I ramble on the white highway,
And think it reaches to his feet:
A meditation sweet!
I ramble on the white highway,
And think it reaches to his feet:
A meditation sweet!
“When coasters hence to London sail
I watch their puffed wings waning pale;
His window opens near the quay;
Their coming he can see.
I watch their puffed wings waning pale;
His window opens near the quay;
Their coming he can see.
“I go to meet the moon at night;
To mark the moon was our delight;
Up there our eyesights touch at will
If such he practise still.”
To mark the moon was our delight;
Up there our eyesights touch at will
If such he practise still.”
W.P.V. October 1866 (recopied).
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |