Poem by Thomas Hardy

To Louisa in the Lane

Meet me again as at that time
In the hollow of the lane;
I will not pass as in my prime
I passed at each day’s wane.
– Ah, I remember!
To do it you will have to see
Anew this sorry scene wherein you have ceased to be!

But I will welcome your aspen form
As you gaze wondering round
And say with spectral frail alarm,
‘Why am I still here found?
– Ah, I remember!
It is through him with blitheful brow
Who did not love me then, but loves and draws me now!’

And I shall answer: ‘Sweet of eyes,
Carry me with you, Dear,
To where you donned this spirit-guise;
It’s better there than here!’
– Till I remember
Such is a deed you cannot do:
Wait must I, till with flung-off flesh I follow you.

1. At the Word ‘Farewell’
2. The Three Tall Men
3. The Dead Bastard
4. The Supplanter
5. Evening Shadows

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