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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529425" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Meeting With Despair</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">AS evening shaped I found me on a moor<br> Which sight could scarce sustain:<br> The black lean land, of featureless contour,<br> Was like a tract in pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "This scene, like my own life," I said, "is one<br> Where many glooms abide;<br> Toned by its fortune to a deadly dun--<br> Lightless on every side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I glanced aloft and halted, pleasure-caught<br> To see the contrast there:<br> The ray-lit clouds gleamed glory; and I thought,<br> "There's solace everywhere!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Then bitter self-reproaches as I stood<br> I dealt me silently<br> As one perverse--misrepresenting Good<br> In graceless mutiny.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Against the horizon's dim-descernèd wheel<br> A form rose, strange of mould:<br> That he was hideous, hopeless, I could feel<br> Rather than could behold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "'Tis a dead spot, where even the light lies spent<br> To darkness!" croaked the Thing.<br> "Not if you look aloft!" said I, intent<br> On my new reasoning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Yea--but await awhile!" he cried. "Ho-ho!--<br> Look now aloft and see!"<br> I looked. There, too, sat night: Heaven's radiant show<br> Had gone. Then chuckled he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529425" data-title="A Meeting With Despair de Thomas Hardy" data-description="AS evening shaped I found me on a moor Which sight could scarce sustain: The black lean land, of featureless contour, Was like a tract in pain. "This scene, like my own life," I said, "is one Where many glooms abide; Toned by..."></div> </div> </div>
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