To Life

By Thomas Hardy


O life with the sad seared face,
         I weary of seeing thee,
And thy draggled cloak, and thy hobbling pace,
         And thy too-forced pleasantry!

         I know what thou would'st tell
         Of Death, Time, Destiny -
I have known it long, and know, too, well
         What it all means for me.

         But canst thou not array
         Thyself in rare disguise,
And feign like truth, for one mad day,
         That Earth is Paradise?

         I'll tune me to the mood,
         And mumm with thee till eve;
And maybe what as interlude
         I feign, I shall believe!

DayPoems Poem No. 1022
<a href="">To Life by Thomas Hardy</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection,
Timothy Bovee, editor

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