Poem by Thomas Hardy

Everything Comes

‘The house is bleak and cold
Built so new for me!
All the winds upon the wold
Search it through for me;
No screening trees abound,
And the curious eyes around,
Keep on view for me.’

‘My Love, I am planting trees
As a screen for you
Both from winds, and eyes that tease
And peer in for you.
Only wait till they have grown,
No such bower will be known
As I mean for you.’

‘Then I will bear it, Love,
And will wait,’ she said.
– So, with years, there grew a grove.
‘Skill how great!’ she said.
‘As you wished, Dear?’ – ‘Yes, I see!
But – I’m dying; and for me
’Tis too late,’ she said.

1. An Expostulation
2. Why She Moved House
3. Her Love-Birds
4. The Collector Cleans His Picture
5. The Aërolite

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