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Poem by Thomas Hardy
Love the Monopolist
(Young Lover's Reverie) The train draws forth from the station-yard, And with it carries me. I rise, and stretch out, and regard The platform left, and see An airy slim blue form there standing, And know that it is she. While with strained vision I watch on, The figure turns round quite To greet friends gaily; then is gone. . . . The import may be slight, But why remained she not hard gazing Till I was out of sight? 'O do not chat with others there,' I brood. 'They are not I. O strain your thoughts as if they were Gold bands between us; eye All neighbour scenes as so much blankness Till I again am by! 'A troubled soughing in the breeze And the sky overhead Let yourself feel; and shadeful trees, Ripe corn, and apples red, Read as things barren and distasteful While we are separated! 'When I come back uncloak your gloom, And let in lovely day; Then the long dark as of the tomb Can well be thrust away With sweet things I shall have to practise, And you will have to say!'
Thomas Hardy
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