Poem by Thomas Hardy

On Martock Moor

I

My deep-dyed husband trusts me,
He feels his mastery sure,
Although I leave his evening hearth
To walk upon the moor.

II

– I had what wealth I needed,
And of gay gowns a score,
And yet I left my husband’s house
To muse upon the moor.

III

O how I loved a dear one
Who, save in soul, was poor!
O how I loved the man who met
Me nightly on the moor.

IV

I’d feather-beds and couches,
And carpets for the floor,
Yet brighter to me was, at eves,
The bareness of the moor.

V

There was a dogging figure,
There was a hiss of ‘Whore!’
There was a flounce at Weir-water
One night upon the moor...

VI

Yet do I haunt there, knowing
By rote each rill’s low pour,
But only a fitful phantom now
Meets me upon the moor.

1. At the Word ‘Farewell’
2. The Supplanter
3. Afternoon Service at Mellstock
4. The Children and Sir Nameless
5. Tragedian to Tragedienne

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