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Classics
Thomas Hardy
Tess of the D'Urbervilles
by Thomas Hardy
The Rambler
I do not see the hills around,
Nor mark the tints the copses wear;
I do not note the grassy ground
And constellated daisies there.
I hear not the contralto note
Of cuckoos hid on either hand,
The whirr that shakes the nighthawk’s throat
When eve’s brown awning hoods the land.
Some say each songster, tree and mead—
All eloquent of love divine—
Receives their constant careful heed:
Such keen appraisement is not mine.
The tones around me that I hear,
The aspects, meanings, shapes I see,
Are those far back ones missed when near,
And now perceived too late by me!
Book:
Tess of the D'Urbervilles
by Thomas Hardy
Classics
Thomas Hardy
1840 - 1928
/
Male
/
English
(
1840 - 1928
/
Male
/
English
)
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