Explore "In Front of the Landscape" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
PLUNGING and labouring on in a tide of visions, / Dolorous and dear, / Forward I pushed my way as amid waste waters / Stretching around, / Through whose eddies there glimmered the customed landscape / Yonder and near,
Blotted to feeble mist. And the coomb and the upland / Foliage-crowned, / Ancient chalk-pit, milestone, rills in the grass-flat / Stroked by the light, / Seemed but a ghost-like gauze, and no substantial / Meadow or mound.