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Poem by Thomas Hardy


When Oats Were Reaped


That day when oats were reaped, and wheat was ripe, and barley ripening,
The road-dust hot, and the bleaching grasses dry,
I walked along and said,
While looking just ahead to where some silent people lie:

‘I wounded one who’s there, and now know well I wounded her;
But, ah, she does not know that she wounded me!’
And not an air stirred,
Nor a bill of any bird; and no response accorded she.

August 1913

Thomas Hardy


Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. Copying Architecture in an Old Minster
  2. At a Pause in a Country Dance
  3. The Child and the Sage
  4. The Inscription
  5. A Woman Driving


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