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Poem by Thomas Hardy Four Footprints Here are the tracks upon the sand Where stood last evening she and I – Pressed heart to heart and hand to hand; The morning sun has baked them dry. I kissed her wet face – wet with rain, For arid grief had burnt up tears, While reached us as in sleeping pain The distant gurgling of the weirs. ‘I have married him – yes; feel that ring; ’Tis a week ago that he put it on. . . . A dutiful daughter does this thing, And resignation succeeds anon! ‘But that I body and soul was yours Ere he’d possession, he’ll never know. He’s a confident man. “The husband scores,” He says, “in the long run” . . . Now, Dear, go!’ I went. And to-day I pass the spot; It is only a smart the more to endure; And she whom I held is as though she were not, For they have resumed their honeymoon tour. Thomas Hardy Thomas Hardy's other poems:
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