Collected poems of Thomas Hardy With a portrait |
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THE FARM-WOMAN'S WINTER |
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 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
THE FARM-WOMAN'S WINTER
I
If seasons all were summers,And leaves would never fall,
And hopping casement-comers
Were foodless not at all,
And fragile folk might be here
That white winds bid depart;
Then one I used to see here
Would warm my wasted heart!
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II
One frail, who, bravely tillingLong hours in gripping gusts,
Was mastered by their chilling,
And now his ploughshare rusts.
So savage winter catches
The breath of limber things,
And what I love he snatches,
And what I love not, brings.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |