Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
The Something that Saved Him
It was when Whirls of thick waters laved me Again and again, That something arose and saved me; Yea, it was then. In that day Unseeing the azure went I On my way, And to white winter bent I, Knowing no May. Reft of renown, Under the night clouds beating Up and down, In my needfulness greeting Cit and clown. Long there had been Much of a murky colour In the scene, Dull prospects meeting duller; Nought between. Last, there loomed A closing-in blind alley, Though there boomed A feeble summons to rally Where it gloomed. The clock rang; The hour brought a hand to deliver; I upsprang, And looked back at den, ditch and river, And sang.
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
912
