Thomas Hardy

The Pink Frock

‘O my pretty pink frock,
I sha’n’t be able to wear it!
Why is he dying just now?
I hardly can bear it!

‘He might have contrived to live on;
But they say there’s no hope whatever:
And must I shut myself up,
And go out never?

‘O my pretty pink frock?
Puff-sleeved and accordion-pleated!
He might have passed in July,
And not so cheated!’