Thomas Hardy — I was the midmost

I was the midmost of my world        &nbsp When first I frisked me free, For though within its circuit gleamed        &nbsp But a small company, And I was immature, they seemed        &nbsp To bend their looks on me. She was the midmost of my world        &nbsp When I went further forth, And hence it was that, whether I turned        &nbsp To south, east, west, or north, Beams of an all-day Polestar burned        &nbsp From that new axe of earth. Where now is midmost in my world?        &nbsp I trace it not at all: No midmost shows it here, or there,        &nbsp When wistful voices call “We are fain! We are fain!” from everywhere        &nbsp On Earth’s bewildering ball!