More Love Lyrics

A poem by Thomas Hardy

In five-score summers! All new eyes,
New minds, new modes, new fools, new wise;
New woes to weep, new joys to prize;

With nothing left of me and you
In that live century's vivid view
Beyond a pinch of dust or two;

A century which, if not sublime,
Will show, I doubt not, at its prime,
A scope above this blinkered time.

- Yet what to me how far above?
For I would only ask thereof
That thy worm should be my worm, Love!

16 WESTBOURNE PARK VILLAS, 1867.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'More Love Lyrics' by Thomas Hardy

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy