The High-School Lawn
T
Thomas Hardy
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Gray prinked with rose,
White tipped with blue,
Shoes with gay hose,
Sleeves of chrome hue;
Fluffed frills of white,
Dark bordered light;
Such shimmerings through
Trees of emerald green are eyed
This afternoon, from the road outside.
They whirl around:
Many laughters run
With a cascade's sound;
Then a mere one.
A bell: they flee:
Silence then: —
So it will be
Some day again
With them, — with me.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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