The Voice

Thomas Hardy

1840 to 1928

Poem Image
Track 1

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Thus I; faltering forward,
Standing as when I drew near to the town
Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,
But as at first, when our day was fair.
Even to the original air-blue gown!
And the woman calling.
Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward,
You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness,
Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,
Heard no more again far or near?
Travelling across the wet mead to me here,
Saying that now you are not as you were
Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,
Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness
When you had changed from the one who was all to me,
Leaves around me falling,

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