Thomas Hardy was born June 2, 1840, in the village of Upper Bockhampton, located in Southwestern England. His father was a stone mason and a violinist. His mother enjoyed reading and relating all the folk songs and legends of the region. Between his parents, Hardy gained all the interests that would appear in his novels and his own life: his love for architecture and music, his interest in the lifestyles of the country folk, and his passion for all sorts of literature.
At the age of eight, Hardy began to attend Julia Martin's school in Bockhampton. However, most of his education came from the books he found in Dorchester, the nearby town. He learned French, German, and Latin by ... more »
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Thomas Hardy Poems
"I Said to Love"
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above;
A Broken Appointment
You did not come, And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb. Yet less for loss of your dear presence there Than that I thus found lacking in your make
I Need Not Go
I need not go Through sleet and snow To where I know She waits for me;
"How Great My Grief" (Triolet)
How great my grief, my joys how few, Since first it was my fate to know thee! - Have the slow years not brought to view How great my grief, my joys how few,
The Darkling Thrush
I leant upon a coppice gate, When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day.
"Between Us Now"
Between us now and here - Two thrown together Who are not wont to wear Life's flushest feather -
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined -- just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around:
A Meeting With Despair
AS evening shaped I found me on a moor Which sight could scarce sustain: The black lean land, of featureless contour, Was like a tract in pain.
The Man He Killed
Had he and I but met By some old ancient inn, We should have set us down to wet Right many a nipperkin!
"I Have Lived With Shades"
I I have lived with shades so long, And talked to them so oft,
A Thunderstorm in Town
She wore a 'terra-cotta' dress, And we stayed, because of the pelting storm, Within the hansom's dry recess, Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless
In Time of 'The Breaking of Nations'
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk.
When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay, And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings, Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say, 'He was a man who used to notice such things'?
IF but some vengeful god would call to me From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing, Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy, That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
Quotationsmore quotations »
''And yet to every bad there is a worse.''Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), British novelist, poet. The Woodlanders, ch. 34 (1887).
''And ghosts then keep their distance; and I know some liberty.''Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), British novelist, poet. Wessex Heights (l. 32). . . The Complete Poems of Thomas Hardy. James Gibson, ed. (1978) Macmill...
''It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.''Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), British novelist, poet. Bathsheba, in Far from the Madding Crowd, ch. 51 (1874).
''The value of old age depends upon the person who reaches it. To some men of early performance it is useless. To others, who are late to develop, it just enables them to finish the job.''Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), British novelist, poet. "Birthday Notes," quoted in Florence Emily Hardy, The Later Years of Thomas Hardy, ch. 17 (1930).
''Of course poets have morals and manners of their own, and custom is no argument with them.''Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), British novelist, poet. Faith, in The Hand of Ethelberta, ch. 2 (1875).
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
"I Said to Love"
I said to Love,
"It is not now as in old days
When men adored thee and thy ways
All else above;
Named thee the Boy, the Bright, the One
Who spread a heaven beneath the sun,"
I said to Love.
I said to him,
"We now know more of thee than then;
We were but weak in judgment when,
With hearts abrim,
We clamoured thee that thou would'st please
Inflict on us thine agonies,"
I said to him.
I said to Love,
"Thou art not young, ...