Читать книгу Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses - Thomas Hardy, Eleanor Bron, Томас Харди (Гарди) - Страница 26

On that gray night of mournful drone,

A part from aught to hear, to see,

I dreamt not that from shires unknown

   In gloom, alone,

   By Halworthy,

A man was drawing near to me.

I’d no concern at anything,

No sense of coming pull-heart play;

Yet, under the silent outspreading

   Of even’s wing

   Where Otterham lay,

A man was riding up my way.

I thought of nobody – not of one,

But only of trifles – legends, ghosts —

Though, on the moorland dim and dun

   That travellers shun

   About these coasts,

The man had passed Tresparret Posts.

There was no light at all inland,

Only the seaward pharos-fire,

Nothing to let me understand

   That hard at hand

   By Hennett Byre

The man was getting nigh and nigher.

There was a rumble at the door,

A draught disturbed the drapery,

And but a minute passed before,

   With gaze that bore

   My destiny,

The man revealed himself to me.