 | Collected poems of Thomas Hardy |  |
THE LADY IN THE FURS
“I'm a lofty lovely woman,”
Says the lady in the furs,
In the glance she throws around her
On the poorer dames and sirs:
“This robe, that cost three figures,
Yes, is mine,” her nod avers.
Says the lady in the furs,
In the glance she throws around her
On the poorer dames and sirs:
“This robe, that cost three figures,
Yes, is mine,” her nod avers.
“True, my money did not buy it,
But my husband's, from the trade;
And they, they only got it
From things feeble and afraid
By murdering them in ambush
With a cunning engine's aid.
But my husband's, from the trade;
And they, they only got it
From things feeble and afraid
By murdering them in ambush
With a cunning engine's aid.
“True, my hands, too, did not shape it
To the pretty cut you see,
But the hands of midnight workers
Who are strangers quite to me:
It was fitted, too, by dressers
Ranged around me toilsomely.
To the pretty cut you see,
But the hands of midnight workers
Who are strangers quite to me:
It was fitted, too, by dressers
Ranged around me toilsomely.
“But I am a lovely lady,
Though sneerers say I shine
By robbing Nature's children
Of apparel not mine,
And that I am but a broom-stick,
Like a scarecrow's wooden spine.”
Though sneerers say I shine
By robbing Nature's children
Of apparel not mine,
And that I am but a broom-stick,
Like a scarecrow's wooden spine.”
| Collected poems of Thomas Hardy | |