Thomas Hardy

The Singing Woman

There was a singing woman
Came riding across the mead
At the time of the mild May weather,
Tameless, tireless;
This song she sung: ‘I am fair, I am young!’
And many turned to heed.

And the same singing woman
Sat crooning in her need
At the time of the winter weather;
Friendless, fireless,
She sang this song: ‘Life, thou’rt too long!’
And there was none to heed.