Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
The Best She Could
Nine leaves a minute Swim down shakily; Each one fain would spin it Straight to earth; but, see, How the sharp airs win it Slantwise away! – Hear it say, ‘Now we have finished our summer show Of what we knew the way to do: Alas, not much! But, as things go, As fair as any. And night-time calls, And the curtain falls!’ Sunlight goes on shining As if no frost were here, Blackbirds seem designing Where to build next year; Yet is warmth declining: And still the day seems to say, ‘Saw you how Dame Summer drest? Of all God taught her she bethought her! Alas, not much! And yet the best She could, within the too short time Granted her prime.’
8 Nov. 1923
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
897