Saturday, April 06, 2013
Under the Bough
Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), When Dead:
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To —
It will be much better when
I am under the bough;
I shall be more myself, Dear, then,
Than I am now.
No sign of querulousness
To wear you out
Shall I show there: strivings and stress
Be quite without.
This fleeting life-brief blight
Will have gone past
When I resume my old and right
Place in the Vast.
And when you come to me
To show you true,
Doubt not I shall infallibly
Be waiting you.
