 | 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 | |