I am sure most of you have heard of Thomas Hardy (1840-1928),
He was an English poet and novelist, born in Dorchester, and famous for his depictions of the imaginary county of "Wessex".
At the age of 22 Hardy moved to London and started to write poems, which idealized the rural life.
A few years later, unable to find a public for his poetry, Hardy returned to the family home in Dorset and turned to fiction.
His first novel, "The Poor Man And The Lady", was written in 1867, but the book was rejected by many publishers and he destroyed the manuscript.
His first book that gained notice, was "Far From The Madding Crowd" (1874). After its success Hardy devoted himself entirely to writing and produced a series of novels, among them "The Return Of The Native" (1878) and "The Mayor Of Casterbridge" (1886).
Hardy's poetry is perhaps less well-known, but I have found 249 of them online and here is one of them.
It is a plea to be truthful in your relationships.
Pretending is never a good thing!
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
Dear KenDrive:
That was lovely - to hear about Thomas Hardy again. I have several of his books and enjoyed the movies made of his stories. I was born in Yeovil, Somerset (1942) and lived with grandma - who simply adored Hardy. We would take trips on the bus to places and whever we went through 'that town' she would point out his statue which depicted him with a book on his lap. She always told me to make sure I read "Tess of the D'Urbervilles' when I was 'old enough.'
Thank you for this wonderful place you have created. It is full of lovely poetry and I adore your comments. So few like you these days. I should go back and read Hardy again after this poem because I believe his first marriage was very unhappy. However, I have been deep into Suvla Bay, Gallipoli where my grandma's first husband was killed (August 21, 1915) and married my grandfather, (wounded on August 16, 1915 at Chocolate Hill.) It was he who brought back belongings and a photo of her and told her how it was over there. They married a year later. He was wounded by shrapnel and did not live long - just enough for my mother to be born. Some of those poems are incredible (those written by the boys who saw The Great War.) Thank you again for this website it is soothing. Sincerely: Charlotte Gatling