The Thing Unplanned The white winter sun struck its stroke on the bridge




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tarix14.04.2016
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The Thing Unplanned

The white winter sun struck its stroke on the bridge,

The meadow-rills rippled and gleamed

As I left the thatched post-office, just by the ridge,

And dropped in my pocket her long tender letter,

With: ‘This must be snapped! it is more than it seemed;

And now is the opportune time!’

But against what I willed worked the surging sublime



Of the thing that I did – the thing better!


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