 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
745
SHE SAW HIM, SHE SAID
“Why, I saw you with the sexton, outside the church-door,
So I did not hurry me home,
Thinking you'd not be come,
Having something to him to say.—
Yes: 'twas you, Dear, though you seemed sad, heart-sore;
How fast you've got therefrom!”
So I did not hurry me home,
Thinking you'd not be come,
Having something to him to say.—
Yes: 'twas you, Dear, though you seemed sad, heart-sore;
How fast you've got therefrom!”
“I've not been out. I've watched the moon through the birch,
And heard the bell toll. Yes,
Like a passing soul in distress!”
“—But no bell's tolled to-day?” . . .
His face looked strange, like the face of him seen by the church,
And she sank to musefulness.
And heard the bell toll. Yes,
Like a passing soul in distress!”
“—But no bell's tolled to-day?” . . .
His face looked strange, like the face of him seen by the church,
And she sank to musefulness.
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |