 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
The Third Tapping
“It's strange, but years back, when I was here,
I used to notice a tapping near;
A man was making his coffin at night,
And he made a second, if I am right?
I have heard again the self-same tapping—
Yes, late last night—or was I napping?”
I used to notice a tapping near;
A man was making his coffin at night,
And he made a second, if I am right?
I have heard again the self-same tapping—
Yes, late last night—or was I napping?”
“O no. It's the same man. He made one
Which his brother had; and a second was done—
For himself, as he thought. But lately his son,
As tall as he, died; aye, and as trim,
And his sorrowful father bestowed it on him.
And now the man is making a third,
To be used for himself when he is interred.”
Which his brother had; and a second was done—
For himself, as he thought. But lately his son,
As tall as he, died; aye, and as trim,
And his sorrowful father bestowed it on him.
And now the man is making a third,
To be used for himself when he is interred.”
“Many years later was brought to me
News that the man had died at sea.”
News that the man had died at sea.”
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |