Collected poems of Thomas Hardy With a portrait |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
1 |
1 |
1 |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
X. |
XI. |
XII. |
XIII. |
XIV. |
XV. |
WHEN OATS WERE REAPED |
1. |
2. |
3. |
Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | ||
WHEN OATS WERE REAPED
That day when oats were reaped, and wheat was ripe, and barley ripening,
The road-dust hot, and the bleaching grasses dry,
I walked along and said,
While looking just ahead to where some silent people lie:
The road-dust hot, and the bleaching grasses dry,
I walked along and said,
While looking just ahead to where some silent people lie:
“I wounded one who's there, and now know well I wounded her:
But, ah, she does not know that she wounded me!”
And not an air stirred,
Nor a bill of any bird; and no response accorded she.
But, ah, she does not know that she wounded me!”
And not an air stirred,
Nor a bill of any bird; and no response accorded she.
August 1913.
Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | ||