If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
that thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.
But not so.  How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
--Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan. . .
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
 

Poems by This Author

Afterwards by Thomas Hardy
When the Present has latched its postern behind my
An August Midnight by Thomas Hardy
A shaded lamp and a waving blind
At the Entering of the New Year by Thomas Hardy
Our songs went up and out the chimney
At the Piano by Thomas Hardy
A Woman was playing
Channel Firing by Thomas Hardy
That night your great guns, unawares,
During Wind and Rain by Thomas Hardy
They sing their dearest songs
Her Father by Thomas Hardy
I met her, as we had privily planned,
How Great My Grief by Thomas Hardy
How great my grief, my joys how few
I Found Her Out There by Thomas Hardy
I found her out there
In the Garden by Thomas Hardy
We waited for the sun
The Convergence of the Twain by Thomas Hardy
In a solitude of the sea
The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy
I leant upon a coppice gate
The Glimpse by Thomas Hardy
She sped through the door
The Going by Thomas Hardy
Why did you give no hint that night
The High-School Lawn by Thomas Hardy
Gray prinked with rose
The Interloper by Thomas Hardy
There are three folk driving in a quaint old chaise
The Man He Killed by Thomas Hardy
"Had he and I but met
The Oxen by Thomas Hardy
Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock
The Ruined Maid by Thomas Hardy
"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
The Subalterns by Thomas Hardy
The Voice by Thomas Hardy
Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,
The Year's Awakening by Thomas Hardy
How do you know that the pilgrim track
To A Sea-Cliff by Thomas Hardy