Poetry Day - Between us now

I missed poetry day yesterday, but I think it is time for some Thomas Hardy. Apparently Thomas Hardy's first love was always poetry, but it wasn't till he was fifty-eight years old, after having written fourteen novels, that he published his first book of poems. From then on he wrote only poetry. There're over nine hundred to choose from, so I might have a little Hardy segment. I even visited Thomas Hardy's house in England, and might try to scan in some photos.

Between Us Now

Between us now and here -

   Two thrown together

Who are not wont to wear

   Life's flushest feather -

Who see the scenes slide past,

The daytimes dimming fast,

Let there be truth at last,

   Even if despair.

So thoroughly and long

   Have you now known me,

So real in faith and strong

   Have I now shown me,

That nothing needs disguise

Further in any wise,

Or asks or justifies

   A guarded tongue.

Face unto face, then, say,

   Eyes mine own meeting,

Is your heart far away,

   Or with mine beating?

When false things are brought low,

And swift things have grown slow,

Feigning like froth shall go,

   Faith be for aye.

Thomas Hardy

Picture from: http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/16/44/4a/couple-s-sunset.jpg