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[The book printer - Amman]

Thomas Hardy : The Masked Face

I found me in a great surging space,
	At either end a door,
And I said: “What is this giddying place,
	With no firm-fixéd floor,
	That I knew not of before?”
	“It is Life,” said a mask-clad face.

I asked: “But how do I come here,
	Who never wished to come;
Can the light and air be made more clear,
	The floor more quietsome,
	And the doors set wide? They numb
	Fast-locked, and fill with fear.”

The mask put on a bleak smile then,
	And said, “O vassal-wight1,
There once complained a goosequill pen
	To the scribe of the Infinite
	Of the words it had to write
	Because they were past its ken2.”

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)	?

 
FOOTNOTES
1 servant; 2 knowledge or understanding
 

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