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Poem by Thomas Hardy


Paths of Former Time


No; no;
It must not be so:
They are the ways we do not go.

Still chew
The kine, and moo
In the meadows we used to wander through;

Still purl
The rivulets and curl
Towards the weirs with a musical swirl;

Haymakers
As in former years
Rake rolls into heaps that the pitchfork rears;

Wheels crack
On the turfy track
The waggon pursues with its toppling pack.

Why then shun 
Since summers not done 
All this because of the lack of one?

Had you been
Sharer of that scene
You would not ask while it bites in keen

Why it is so
We can no more go
By the summer paths we used to know!

1913

Thomas Hardy


Thomas Hardy's other poems:
  1. Over the Coffin
  2. Genitrix Laesa
  3. Mute Opinion
  4. I Say, Ill Seek Her Side
  5. The Two Houses


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