Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
In the Small Hours
I lay in my bed and fiddled With a dreamland viol and bow, And the tunes flew back to my fingers I had melodied years ago. It was two or three in the morning When I fancy-fiddled so Long reels and country-dances, And hornpipes swift and slow. And soon anon came crossing The chamber in the gray Figures of jigging fieldfolk – Saviours of corn and hay – To the air of ‘Haste to the Wedding’, As after a wedding-day; Yea, up and down the middle In windless whirls went they! There danced the bride and bridegroom, And couples in a train, Gay partners time and travail Had longwhiles stilled amain!.. (It seemed a thing for weeping To find, at slumber’s wane And morning’s sly increeping, That Now, not Then, held reign.
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
931