0
On The Doorstep - Thomas Hardy
0 0

On The Doorstep Thomas Hardy

On The Doorstep - Thomas Hardy
The rain imprinted the step's wet shine
With target-circles that quivered and crossed
As I was leaving this porch of mine;
When from within there swelled and paused
         A song's sweet note;
   And back I turned, and thought,
         "Here I'll abide."

The step shines wet beneath the rain,
Which prints its circles as heretofore;
I watch them from the porch again,
But no song-notes within the door
         Now call to me
   To shun the dripping lea
         And forth I stride.

Jan. 1914.
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Login Register
Log into your account
And gain new opportunities
Forgot your password?