I
Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.

       II
Only thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onwards the same
Though Dynasties pass.

       III
Yonder a maid and her wight
Go whispering by:
War's annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1141 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Thomas Hardy
Poem: In Time Of "The Breaking Of Nations"

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