<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529439" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Afterwards</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay,<br>And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings,<br>Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say,<br>'He was a man who used to notice such things'?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If it be in the dusk when, like an eyelid's soundless blink,<br>The dewfall-hawk comes crossing the shades to alight<br>Upon the wind-warped upland thorn, a gazer may think,<br>'To him this must have been a familiar sight.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I pass during some nocturnal blackness, mothy and warm,<br>When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn,<br>One may say, 'He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm,<br>But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door,<br>Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees<br>Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more,<br>'He was one who had an eye for such mysteries'?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And will any say when my bell of quittance is heard in the gloom<br>And a crossing breeze cuts a pause in its outrollings,<br>Till they rise again, as they were a new bell's boom,<br>'He hears it not now, but used to notice such things'?</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=529439" data-title="Afterwards de Thomas Hardy" data-description="When the Present has latched its postern behind my tremulous stay, And the May month flaps its glad green leaves like wings, Delicate-filmed as new-spun silk, will the neighbours say, 'He was a man who used to notice such things'? If it be in the..."></div> </div> </div>

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