 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
THE CASUAL ACQUAINTANCE
While he was here with breath and bone,
To speak to and to see,
Would I had known—more clearly known—
What that man did for me
To speak to and to see,
Would I had known—more clearly known—
What that man did for me
When the wind scraped a minor lay,
And the spent west from white
To gray turned tiredly, and from gray
To broadest bands of night!
And the spent west from white
To gray turned tiredly, and from gray
To broadest bands of night!
But I saw not, and he saw not
What shining life-tides flowed
To me-ward from his casual jot
Of service on that road.
What shining life-tides flowed
To me-ward from his casual jot
Of service on that road.
He would have said: “'Twas nothing new;
We all do what we can;
'Twas only what one man would do
For any other man.”
We all do what we can;
'Twas only what one man would do
For any other man.”
Now that I gauge his goodliness
He's slipped from human eyes;
And when he passed there's none can guess,
Or point out where he lies.
He's slipped from human eyes;
And when he passed there's none can guess,
Or point out where he lies.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |