Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Selfsame Song

A bird sings the selfsame song,
With never a fault in its flow,
That we listened to here those long
Long years ago.

A pleasing marvel is how
A strain of such rapturous rote
Should have gone on thus till now
unchanged in a note!

--But its not the selfsame bird.--
No: perished to dust is he....
As also are those who heard
That song with me. 

1. The Woman in the Rye
2. When Oats Were Reaped
3. The Wind’s Prophecy
4. Meditations on a Holiday
5. The Sun’s Last Look on the Country Girl

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