Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses. Thomas Hardy

Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses - Thomas Hardy


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FRAGMENT

       MIDNIGHT ON THE GREAT WESTERN

       HONEYMOON TIME AT AN INN

       THE ROBIN

       “I ROSE AND WENT TO ROU’TOR TOWN” (She , alone)

       THE NETTLES

       IN A WAITING-ROOM

       THE CLOCK-WINDER

       OLD EXCURSIONS

       THE MASKED FACE

       IN A WHISPERING GALLERY

       THE SOMETHING THAT SAVED HIM

       THE ENEMY’S PORTRAIT

       IMAGININGS

       ON THE DOORSTEP

       SIGNS AND TOKENS

       PATHS OF FORMER TIME

       THE CLOCK OF THE YEARS

       AT THE PIANO

       THE SHADOW ON THE STONE

       IN THE GARDEN (M. H.)

       THE TREE AND THE LADY

       AN UPBRAIDING

       THE YOUNG GLASS-STAINER

       LOOKING AT A PICTURE ON AN ANNIVERSARY

       THE CHOIRMASTER’S BURIAL

       THE MAN WHO FORGOT

       WHILE DRAWING IN A CHURCH-YARD

       “FOR LIFE I HAD NEVER CARED GREATLY”

       POEMS OF WAR AND PATRIOTISM

       “MEN WHO MARCH AWAY” (SONG OF THE SOLDIERS)

       HIS COUNTRY

       ENGLAND TO GERMANY IN 1914

       ON THE BELGIAN EXPATRIATION

       AN APPEAL TO AMERICA ON BEHALF OF THE BELGIAN DESTITUTE

       THE PITY OF IT

       IN TIME OF WARS AND TUMULTS

       IN TIME OF “THE BREAKING OF NATIONS” [235]

       CRY OF THE HOMELESS AFTER THE PRUSSIAN INVASION OF BELGIUM

       BEFORE MARCHING AND AFTER (in Memoriam F. W. G.)

       “OFTEN WHEN WARRING”

       THEN AND NOW

       A CALL TO NATIONAL SERVICE

       THE DEAD AND THE LIVING ONE

       A NEW YEAR’S EVE IN WAR TIME

       “I MET A MAN”

       “I LOOKED UP FROM MY WRITING”

       FINALE

       THE COMING OF THE END

       AFTERWARDS

       Table of Contents

      That mirror

       Which makes of men a transparency,

       Who holds that mirror

       And bids us such a breast-bare spectacle see

       Of you and me?

      That mirror

       Whose magic penetrates like a dart,

       Who lifts that mirror

       And throws our mind back on us, and our heart,

       Until we start?

      That mirror

       Works well in these night hours of ache;

       Why in that mirror

       Are tincts we never see ourselves once take

      


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