Saturday, April 8, 2017
Does Time fly past without even so much as a whisper?
It is the austere language of a diffident man, Hardy, when he was around sixty years of age, in 1898. The short poem is marked with stoical fortitude; patient and uncomplaining. “I Look into My Glass”, has an indelible immediate appeal on the readers’ mind in his teaching man to face up to Time... Sign in
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