She At His Funeral
Thomas Hardy
THEY bear him to his resting-place--
In slow procession sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger's space;
His kindred they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round with griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!
Next 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : She Hears The Storm
- Thomas Hardy : She, I, And They
- Thomas Hardy : She, To Him
- Thomas Hardy : She, To Him Iii
- Thomas Hardy : She, To Him Iv
- Thomas Hardy : She, To Him, I
- Thomas Hardy : She, To Him, Ii
- Thomas Hardy : Shelley's Skylark ( The Neighbourhood Of Leghorn: March )
- Thomas Hardy : Sitting On A Bridge
- Thomas Hardy : Snow In The Suburbs
Previous 10 Poems
- Thomas Hardy : Satires Of Circumstance In Fifteen Glimpses Viii: In The St
- Thomas Hardy : Sapphic Fragment
- Thomas Hardy : San Sebastian
- Thomas Hardy : Rome: The Vatican-sala Delle Muse.
- Thomas Hardy : Rome: On The Palatine.
- Thomas Hardy : Rome: Building A New Street In The Ancient Quarter
- Thomas Hardy : Rome At The Pyramid Of Cestius Near The Graves Of Shelley And Keats
- Thomas Hardy : Rom: On The Palatine
- Thomas Hardy : Revulsion
- Thomas Hardy : Quid Hic Agis?
