An August Midnight
A shaded lamp and a waving blind,
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor:
On this scene enter - winged, horned, and spined -
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore;
While 'mid my page there idly stands
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands...
Thus meet we five, in this still place,
At this point of time, at this point in space
- My guests besmear my new-penned line,
Or bang at the lamp and fall supine.
'God's humblest, they!' I muse. Yet why?
They know Earth-secrets that know not I.
Thomas Hardy, Max Gate, 1899
That I could write like that. This is the first Hardy poem I really fell in love with. For about 4 months previous to that I had been struggling with really getting into it...but I had to analyse this during an exam, and that was it.
I love the way he sets a scene. You can actually see it happening...the whole play on time, and on the concept of a PLAY.
I think I'm beginning to fall for drama. Not just acting. Reading. Plays. Theatre.
Sigh, I've got enough issues already. :p