Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
Lying Awake
You, Morningtide Star, now are steady-eyed, over the east, I know it as if I saw you; You, Beeches, engrave on the sky your thin twigs, even the least; Had I paper and pencil I’d draw you. You, Meadow, are white with your counterpane cover of dew, I see it as if I were there; You, Churchyard, are lightening faint from the shade of the yew, The names creeping out everywhere.
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