In Tenebris
by Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

      Wintertime nighs;
But my bereavement-pain
It cannot bring again:
      Twice no one dies.

      Flower-petals flee;
But, since it once hath been,
No more that severing scene
      Can harrow me.

      Birds faint in dread:
I shall not lose old strength
In the lone frost’s black length:
      Strength long since fled!

      Leaves freeze to dun;
But friends can not turn cold
This season as of old
      For him with none.

      Tempests may scath;
But love can not make smart
Again this year his heart
      Who no heart hath.

      Black is night’s cope;
But death will not appal
One who, past doubtings all,
      Waits in unhope.

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