Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))
Seeing the Moon Rise
We used to go to Froom-hill Barrow To see the round moon rise Into the heath-rimmed skies, Trudging thither by plough and harrow Up the pathway, steep and narrow, Singing a song. Now we do not go there. Why? Zest burns not so high! Latterly we’ve only conned her With a passing glance From window or door by chance, Hoping to go again, high yonder, As we used, and gaze, and ponder, Singing a song. Thitherward we do not go: Feet once quick are slow!
August 1927
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
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