Читать книгу Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses - Thomas Hardy, Eleanor Bron, Томас Харди (Гарди) - Страница 17

   To my native place

   Bent upon returning,

   Bosom all day burning

   To be where my race

Well were known, ’twas much with me

There to dwell in amity.

   Folk had sought their beds,

   But I hailed: to view me

   Under the moon, out to me

   Several pushed their heads,

And to each I told my name,

Plans, and that therefrom I came.

   “Did you?..  Ah, ’tis true

   I once heard, back a long time,

   Here had spent his young time,

   Some such man as you.

Good-night.”  The casement closed again,

And I was left in the frosty lane.