Explore "In a Cathedral City" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THESE people have not heard your name; / No loungers in this placid place / Have helped to bruit your beauty's fame.
The grey Cathedral, towards whose face / Bend eyes untold, has met not yours; / Your shade has never swept its base,
Your form has never darked its doors, / Nor have your faultless feet once thrown / A pensive pit-pat on its floors.
Along the street to maids well known / Blithe lovers hum their tender airs, / But in your praise voice not a tone.
-Since nought bespeaks you here, or bears, / As I, your imprint through and through, / Here might I rest, till my heart shares / The spot's unconsciousness of you!