Search -
The Pocket Thomas Hardy, Selections From the Wessex Novels and Poems, Made by A.h. Hyatt
The Pocket Thomas Hardy Selections From the Wessex Novels and Poems Made by Ah Hyatt Author:Thomas Hardy General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1906 Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million book... more »s for free. Excerpt: ANGEL CLARE REFLECTS A NGEL CLARE thought of Tess as "' she had appeared on the day of the wedding. How her eyes had lingered upon him ; how she had hung upon his words as if they were a god's ! And during the terrible evening over the hearth, when her simple soul uncovered itself to his, how pitiful her face had looked by the rays of the fire, in her inability to realize that his love and protection could possibly be withdrawn. Thus from being her critic he grew to be her advocate. Cynical things he had uttered to himself about her ; but no man can be a cynic and live ; and he withdrew them. The mistake of expressing them had arisen from his allowing himself to be influenced by general principles to the disregard of the particular instance. But the reasoning is somewhat musty ; lovers and husbands have gone over the ground before to-day. Clare had been harsh towards her ; there is no doubt of it. Men are too often harsh with women they love or have loved ; women with men. And yet these harshnesses are tenderness itself when compared with the universal harshness out of which they grow ; the harshness of the position towards the temperament, of the means towards the aims, of to-day towards yesterday, of hereafter towards to-day. UNKNOWING A17HEN, soul in soul reflected, We breathed an aethered air, When we neglected All things elsewhere, And left the friendly friendless To keep our love aglow, We deemed it endless. . . . -- We did not know ! When, by mad passion goaded, We planned to hie away, But, unforeboded, The storm-shafts gray So heavily down-pattered That none could f...« less