Weathers by Thomas Hardy


This is the weather the cuckoo likes, 

And so do I; 
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes, 
And nestlings fly; 
And the little brown nightingale bills his best, 
And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,' 
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest, 
And citizens dream of the south and west, 
And so do I. 

This is the weather the shepherd shuns, 
And so do I; 
When beeches drip in browns and duns, 
And thresh and ply; 
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe, 
And meadow rivulets overflow, 
And drops on gate bars hang in a row, 
And rooks in families homeward go, 
And so do I. 

3 comments:

Jay M. said...

Interesting that you would post a Thomas Hardy piece right after I read a bit about him in "A Prayer for Owen Meany". Well, T.H. was mentioned in the book!

Peace <3
Jay

David Jeffreys said...

Thomas Hardy is one of my favorite authors as I was reminded in the comments of Dr. Spo's recent post. So I decided to post one of his poems.

David

David Oliver said...

It is a good one!