The Poetry Corner

Looking At A Picture On An Anniversary

By Thomas Hardy

But don't you know it, my dear, Don't you know it, That this day of the year (What rainbow-rays embow it!) We met, strangers confessed, But parted - blest? Though at this query, my dear, There in your frame Unmoved you still appear, You must be thinking the same, But keep that look demure Just to allure. And now at length a trace I surely vision Upon that wistful face Of old-time recognition, Smiling forth, "Yes, as you say, It is the day." For this one phase of you Now left on earth This great date must endue With pulsings of rebirth? - I see them vitalize Those two deep eyes! But if this face I con Does not declare Consciousness living on Still in it, little I care To live myself, my dear, Lone-labouring here! Spring 1913.