 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
TOLERANCE
“It is a foolish thing,” said I,
“To bear with such, and pass it by;
Yet so I do, I know not why!”
“To bear with such, and pass it by;
Yet so I do, I know not why!”
And at each cross I would surmise
That if I had willed not in that wise
I might have spared me many sighs.
That if I had willed not in that wise
I might have spared me many sighs.
But now the only happiness
In looking back that I possess—
Whose lack would leave me comfortless—
In looking back that I possess—
Whose lack would leave me comfortless—
Is to remember I refrained
From masteries I might have gained,
And for my tolerance was disdained;
From masteries I might have gained,
And for my tolerance was disdained;
For see, a tomb. And if it were
I had bent and broke, I should not dare
To linger in the shadows there.
I had bent and broke, I should not dare
To linger in the shadows there.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |