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A poem by Thomas Hardy |
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The Pity Of It |
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Title: The Pity Of It Author: Thomas Hardy [More Titles by Hardy] I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, afar "Ich woll," "Er sholl," and by-talk similar, Then seemed a Heart crying: "Whosoever they be "Sinister, ugly, lurid, be their fame; April 1915. [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |