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He Fears His Good Fortune

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There was a glorious time     At an epoch of my prime;     Mornings beryl-bespread,     And evenings golden-red;      Nothing gray:     And in my heart I said,     "However this chanced to be,     It is too full for me,     Too rare, too rapturous, rash,     Its spell must close with a crash      Some day!"     The radiance went on     Anon and yet anon,     And sweetness fell around     Like manna on the ground.      "I've no claim,"     Said I, "to be thus crowned:     I am not worthy this:-     Must it not go amiss? -     Well . . . let the end foreseen     Come duly! - I am serene."      - And it came.

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"There was a glorious time..."

"He Fears His Good Fortune" is a quintessential example of Thomas Hardy's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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