I'm currently indulging in the monster that is The Complete Poems of Thomas Hardy, which I bought for three dollars from a second-hand book store. Let me assure you that it was worth it's weight in gold, his poems are beautiful and relative, yet have class and clarity through old english. Below is a short poem found within.
Moments Of Vision
A sense that, in some mouldering year,
As one they both would lie,
Made me move quickly on to her
To pass the pale thought by.
She laughed and said: 'Out there, to me,
You looked so weather-browned
And brown in clothes, you seemed to be
Made of the dusty ground!'
I don't know if this is anyones kind of thing, but I love his poetry with a passion.
Anyway, I best lose myself in study again. I hate the middle of the year.