Collected poems of Thomas Hardy With a portrait |
 |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
|
ON A HEATH |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
ON A HEATH
I could hear a gown-skirt rustling
Before I could see her shape,
Rustling through the heather
That wove the common's drape,
On that evening of dark weather
When I hearkened, lips agape.
Before I could see her shape,
Rustling through the heather
That wove the common's drape,
On that evening of dark weather
When I hearkened, lips agape.
And the town-shine in the distance
Did but baffle here the sight,
And then a voice flew forward:
“Dear, is't you? I fear the night!”
And the herons flapped to norward
In the firs upon my right.
Did but baffle here the sight,
And then a voice flew forward:
“Dear, is't you? I fear the night!”
And the herons flapped to norward
In the firs upon my right.
There was another looming
Whose life we did not see;
There was one stilly blooming
Full nigh to where walked we;
There was a shade entombing
All that was bright of me.
Whose life we did not see;
There was one stilly blooming
Full nigh to where walked we;
There was a shade entombing
All that was bright of me.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |