Thomas Hardy (Томас Гарди (Харди))

The Lodging-House Fuchsias

Mrs Masters’s fuchsias hung
Higher and broader, and brightly swung,
Bell-like, more and more
Over the narrow garden-path,
Giving the passer a sprinkle-bath
In the morning.

She put up with their pushful ways,
And made us tenderly lift their sprays,
Going to her door:
But when her funeral had to pass
They cut back all the flowery mass
In the morning.

1. The End of the Episode
2. Ten Years Since
3. The Young Churchwarden
4. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
5. On One Who Lived and Died Where He Was Born

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