Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Love-Letters

    (In Memoriam H.R.)

I met him quite by accident
In a bye-path that he’d frequent.
And, as he neared, the sunset glow
Warmed up the smile of pleasantry
Upon his too thin face, while he
Held a square packet up to me,
Of what, I did not know.

‘Well,’ said he then; ‘they are my old letters.
Perhaps she – rather felt them fetters. . . .
You see, I am in a slow decline,
And she’s broken off with me. Quite right
To send them back, and true foresight;
I’d got too fond of her! To-night
I burn them – stuff of mine!’

He laughed in the sun – an ache in his laughter –
And went. I heard of his death soon after.

1. The Supplanter
2. Afternoon Service at Mellstock
3. At the Word ‘Farewell’
4. Tragedian to Tragedienne
5. The Three Tall Men

Print

1511 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version