|
|
The Fallow Deer At The Lonely House
By Thomas Hardy
One without looks in to-night
Through the curtain-chink
From the sheet of glistening white;
One without looks in to-night
As we sit and think
By the fender-brink.
We do not discern those eyes
Watching in the snow;
Lit by lamps of rosy dyes
We do not discern those eyes
Wondering, aglow,
Fourfooted, tiptoe.
Extra Info:
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 455 times.
|
|
