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Thomas Hardy was an English novelist, short story writer, and poet of the naturalist movement, though he saw himself as a poet and wrote novels mainly for financial gain only.
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Thomas Hardy's poems
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The Roman Road runs straight and bare As the pale parting-line in hair
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How do you know that the pilgrim track Along the belting zodiac
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Song of the Soldiers
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Rating: 1.00 Votes: 1 |
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Between us now and here-- Two thrown together
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I leant upon a coppice gate, When Frost was spectre-gray,
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THREE captains went to Indian wars, And only one returned:
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As I drive to the junction of lane and highway, And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
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This is the weather the cuckoo likes, And so do I;
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Rating: 4.50 Votes: 2 |
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Forty years back, when much had place That since has perished out of mind,
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Southampton Docks: October 1899
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Rating: 5.00 Votes: 1 |
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When the hamlet hailed a birth Judy used to cry:
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They bear him to his resting-place- In slow procession sweeping by;
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Rating: 3.50 Votes: 2 |
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Where once we danced, where once we sang, Gentlemen,
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