Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
A Self-Glamourer
My little happiness, How much I have made of it! – As if I had been not less Than a queen, to be straight obeyed of it. ‘Life, be fairer far,’ I said, ‘than you are.’ So I counted my springtime-day’s Dream of futurity Enringed with golden rays To be quite a summer surety; And my trustful daring undoubt Brought it about! Events all human-wrought Had look of divinity, And what I foreframed in thought Grew substanced, by force of affinity: Visions to verities came, Seen as the same. My years in trusting spent Make to shape towardly, And fate and accident Behave not perversely or frowardly. Shall, then, Life’s winter snow To me be so?
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