Saturday, April 06, 2013


Under the Bough

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928), When Dead:
                    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.

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