Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A WET NIGHT, by THOMAS HARDY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: I pace along, the rain-shafts riddling me Last Line: And taking all such toils as trifles mere. Subject(s): Rain | ||||||||
I PACE along, the rain-shafts riddling me, Mile after mile out by the moorland way, And up the hill, and through the ewe-leaze gray Into the lane, and round the corner tree; Where, as my clothing clams me, mire-bestarred, And the enfeebled light dies out of day, Leaving the liquid shades to reign, I say, 'This is a hardship to be calendared!' Yet sires of mine now perished and forgot, When worse beset, ere roads were shapen here, And night and storm were foes indeed to fear, Times numberless have trudged across this spot In sturdy muteness on their strenuous lot, And taking all such toils as trifles mere. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DISTANT RAINFALL by ROBINSON JEFFERS CHAMBER MUSIC: 32 by JAMES JOYCE HEAVY SUMMER RAIN by JANE KENYON CROWD CORRALLING by MARGARET AVISON THE RAIN-POOL by KARLE WILSON BAKER ON THE GREAT ATLANTIC RAINWAY by KENNETH KOCH AND THERE WAS A GREAT CALM' by THOMAS HARDY |
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