Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
On the Portrait of a Woman about to be Hanged
Comely and capable one of our race, Posing there in your gown of grace, Plain, yet becoming; Could subtlest breast Ever have guessed What was behind that innocent face, Drumming, drumming! Would that your Causer, ere knoll your knell For this riot of passion, might deign to tell Why, since It made you Sound in the germ, It sent a worm To madden Its handiwork, when It might well Not have assayed you, Not have implanted, to your deep rue, The Clytaemnestra spirit in you, And with purblind vision Sowed a tare In a field so fair, And a thing of symmetry, seemly to view, Brought to derision!
6 January 1923
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
