At The Word “Farewell”

Album cover art for "At The Word “Farewell”" by Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy - Non-Music, Poetry (Literature)

At The Word “Farewell”

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She looked like a bird from a cloud         On the clammy lawn, Moving alone, bare-browed         In the dim of dawn. The candles alight in the room         For my parting meal Made all things withoutdoors loom         Strange, ghostly, unreal. The hour itself was a ghost,         And it seemed to me then As of chances the chance furthermost         I should see her again. I beheld not where all was so fleet         That a Plan of the past Which had ruled us from birthtime to meet         Was in working at last: No prelude did I there perceive         To a drama at all, Or foreshadow what fortune might weave         From beginnings so small; But I rose as if quicked by a spur         I was bound to obey, And stepped through the casement to her         Still alone in the gray. "I am leaving you . . . Farewell!" I said,         As I followed her on By an alley bare boughs overspread;         "I soon must be gone!" Even then the scale might have been turned         Against love by a feather, - But crimson one cheek of hers burned         When we came in together.

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Credits

Writers
  • Thomas Hardy