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Poem by Thomas Hardy
A Woman Driving
How she held up the horses’ heads, Firm-lipped, with steady rein, Down that grim steep the coastguard treads, Till all was safe again! With form erect and keen contour She passed against the sea, And, dipping into the chine’s obscure, Was seen no more by me. To others she appeared anew At times of dusky light, But always, so they told, withdrew From close and curious sight. Some said her silent wheels would roll Rutless on softest loam, And even that her steeds’ footfall Sank not upon the foam. Where drives she now? It may be where No mortal horses are, But in a chariot of the air Towards some radiant star.
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