A confession to a friend in trouble Thomas Hardy

  • YOUR troubles shrink not, though I feel them less
    Here, far away, than when I tarried near;
    I even smile old smiles–with listlessness–
    Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere.

    A thought too strange to house within my brain
    Haunting its outer precincts I discern:
    –That I will not show zeal again to learn
    Your griefs, and, sharing them, renew my pain….

    It goes, like murky bird or buccaneer
    That shapes its lawless figure on the main,
    And each new impulse tends to make outflee
    The unseemly instinct that had lodgment here;
    Yet, comrade old, can bitterer knowledge be
    Than that, though banned, such instinct was in me!

I welcome comments and criticism

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.