Poem by Thomas Hardy

The Prophetess

1

‘Now shall I sing
That pretty thing
“The Mocking-Bird”?’ – And sing it straight did she.
I had no cause
To think it was
A Mocking-bird in truth that sang to me.

2

Not even the glance
She threw askance
Foretold to me, nor did the tune or rhyme,
That the words bore
A meaning more
Than that they were a ditty of the time.

3

But after years
Of hopes and fears,
And all they bring, and all they take away,
I found I had heard
The Mocking-bird
In person singing there to me that day.

1. An Expostulation
2. Her Love-Birds
3. The Collector Cleans His Picture
4. The Aërolite
5. The Harvest-Supper

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