Poem by Thomas Hardy

* * *

‘It never looks like summer here
On Beeny by the sea.’
But though she saw its looks as drear,
Summer it seemed to me.

It never looks like summer now
Whatever weather’s there;
But ah, it cannot anyhow,
On Beeny or elsewhere!

1. An Expostulation
2. The Aërolite
3. The Harvest-Supper
4. Why She Moved House
5. Her Love-Birds

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