HOME

POEMS

CREATE

STUFF

ABOUT

Thomas Hardy : During Wind and Rain

	They sing their dearest songs—
	He, she, all of them—yea,
	Treble and tenor and bass,
		And one to play;
	With the candles mooning each face. . . .
		Ah, no; the years O!
How the sick leaves reel down in throngs!

	They clear the creeping moss—
	Elders and juniors—aye,
	Making the pathways neat
		And the garden gay;
	And they build a shady seat. . . .
		Ah, no; the years, the years;
See, the white storm-birds wing across.

	They are blithely breakfasting all—
	Men and maidens—yea,
	Under the summer tree,
		With a glimpse of the bay,
	While pet fowl come to knee. . . .
		Ah, no; the years O!
And the rotten rose is ript from the wall.

	They change to a high new house,
	He, she, all of them—aye,
	Clocks and carpets and chairs
		On the lawn all day,
	And brightest things that are theirs. . . .
		Ah, no ; the years, the years;
Down their carved names the rain-drop ploughs. 

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)	1917

If you came here from the main Poems page, the BACK button on your web browser will bring you back there

Note 1: When we convert poems to HTML (WEB) format for viewing here, some modifications may occur to the formatting (e.g. indenting) - all poems are correctly formatted for print.

Note 2: if you came to this page following a search engine query, you can find the Portable Poetry home page at www.portablepoetry.com.

Note 3: Feel free to copy these poems and footnotes for your personal and private use. For other uses please get in touch with us first. This poem is believed to be in the public domain. All footnotes are copyright Portable Poetry.