English Poetry. Thomas Hardy. Everything Comes. Томас Гарди (Харди).

Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

Everything Comes

‘The house is bleak and cold
Built so new for me!
All the winds upon the wold
Search it through for me;
No screening trees abound,
And the curious eyes around,
Keep on view for me.’

‘My Love, I am planting trees
As a screen for you
Both from winds, and eyes that tease
And peer in for you.
Only wait till they have grown,
No such bower will be known
As I mean for you.’

‘Then I will bear it, Love,
And will wait,’ she said.
– So, with years, there grew a grove.
‘Skill how great!’ she said.
‘As you wished, Dear?’ – ‘Yes, I see!
But – I’m dying; and for me
’Tis too late,’ she said.

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