By Thomas Hardy I leant upon a coppice gateWhen Frost was spectre-grey,And Winter’s dregs made desolateThe weakening eye of day. […]
By Thomas Hardy Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,Saying that now you are not as […]
By Thomas Hardy I leant upon a coppice gateWhen Frost was spectre-grey,And Winter’s dregs made desolateThe weakening eye of day. […]
By Thomas Hardy Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,Saying that now you are not as […]