During Wind And Rain – Poem by Thomas Hardy

During Wind And Rain

THEY sing their dearest songs– 
He, she, all of them–yea, 
Treble and tenor and bass. 
And one to play; 
With the candles mooning each face…. 
Ah, no; the years O! 
How the sick leaves reel down in throngs! 

They clear the creeping moss– 
Elders and juniors–aye, 
Making the pathways neat 
And the garden gay; 
And they build a shady seat…. 
Ah, no; the years, the years; 
See, the white storm-birds wing across! 

They are blithely breakfasting all– 
Men and maidens–yea, 
Under the summer tree, 
With a glimpse of the bay, 
While pet fowl come to the knee…. 
Ah, no; the years O! 
And the rotten rose is ripped from the wall. 

They change to a high new house, 
He, she, all of them–aye, 
Clocks and carpets and chairs 
On the lawn all day, 
And brightest things that are theirs…. 
Ah, no; the years, the years; 
Down their carved names the raindrop plows.

BY:Thomas Hardy

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