Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | ||
The First Tapping
“What's that tapping at night: tack, tack,In some house in the street at the back?”
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Is making himself a coffin to measure.
He's so very tall that no carpenter
Will make it long enough, he's in fear.
His father's was shockingly short for his limb—
And it made a deep impression on him.”
Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | ||