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Red Classics Poems of Thomas Hardy by
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Balsam Alesawi
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I cannot go to the great grey Plain; there's a figure against the moon, Nobody sees it but I,
and it makes my breast beat out of tune; I cannot go to the tall-spired town, being barred by the forms now passed
For everybody but me, in whose long vision they stand there fast.
— Sep 10, 2023 12:58PM
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and it makes my breast beat out of tune; I cannot go to the tall-spired town, being barred by the forms now passed
For everybody but me, in whose long vision they stand there fast.
