|
|
My Spirit Will Not Haunt The Mound
By Thomas Hardy
My spirit will not haunt the mound
Above my breast,
But travel, memory-possessed,
To where my tremulous being found
Life largest, best.
My phantom-footed shape will go
When nightfall grays
Hither and thither along the ways
I and another used to know
In backward days.
And there you'll find me, if a jot
You still should care
For me, and for my curious air;
If otherwise, then I shall not,
For you, be there.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 407 times.
|
|
