by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928)

Language: English 
Something tapped on the pane of my room
  When there was never a trace
Of wind or rain, and I saw in the gloom
  My weary Beloved's face.

 ... 

I rose and neared the window-glass,
 ... 
Only a pallid moth, alas,
  Tapped at the pane for me.

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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 12
Word count: 84