 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
EXEUNT OMNES
I
Everybody else, then, going,And I still left where the fair was? . . .
Much have I seen of neighbour loungers
Making a lusty showing,
Each now past all knowing.
390
II
There is an air of blanknessIn the street and the littered spaces;
Thoroughfare, steeple, bridge and highway
Wizen themselves to lankness;
Kennels dribble dankness.
III
Folk all fade. And whither,As I wait alone where the fair was?
Into the clammy and numbing night-fog
Whence they entered hither.
Soon one more goes thither!
June 2, 1913.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |