The Dream-Follower
T
Thomas Hardy
0
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A dream of mine flew over the mead
To the halls where my old Love reigns;
And it drew me on to follow its lead:
And I stood at her window-panes;
And I saw but a thing of flesh and bone
Speeding on to its cleft in the clay;
And my dream was scared, and expired on a moan,
And I whitely hastened away.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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