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1840–1928

THE SELF-UNSEEING

Thomas Hardy

Here is the ancient floor, Footworn and hollowed and thin, Here was the former door Where the dead feet walked in.

She sat here in her chair, Smiling into the fire; He who played stood there, Bowing it higher and higher.

Childlike, I danced in a dream; Blessings emblazoned that day Everything glowed with a gleam; Yet we were looking away!

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THE SELF-UNSEEING · Thomas Hardy · Poetry Cove