 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
THE PROPHETESS
1
“Now shall I singThat pretty thing
‘The Mocking-Bird’?”—And sing it straight did she.
I had no cause
To think it was
A Mocking-bird in truth that sang to me.
800
2
Not even the glanceShe threw askance
Foretold to me, nor did the tune or rhyme,
That the words bore
A meaning more
Than that they were a ditty of the time.
3
But after yearsOf hopes and fears,
And all they bring, and all they take away,
I found I had heard
The Mocking-bird
In person singing there to me that day.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |