Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
The History of an Hour
Vain is the wish to try rhyming it, writing it! Pen cannot weld into words what it was; Time will be squandered in toil at inditing it; Clear is the cause! Yea, ’twas too satiate with soul, too ethereal; June-morning scents of a rose-bush in flower Catch in a clap-net of hempen material; So catch that hour!
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
