Skip to content
1840–1928

TO A LADY

Thomas Hardy

Now that my page upcloses, doomed, maybe, Never to press thy cosy cushions more, Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretofore, Or stir thy gentle vows of faith in me:

Knowing thy natural receptivity, I figure that, as flambeaux banish eve, My sombre image, warped by insidious heave Of those less forthright, must lose place in thee.

So be it. I have borne such. Let thy dreams Of me and mine diminish day by day, And yield their space to shine of smugger things; Till I shape to thee but in fitful gleams,

And then in far and feeble visitings, And then surcease. Truth will be truth alway.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
TO A LADY · Thomas Hardy · Poetry Cove