From Monday 2nd onwards 
THE POETRY OF THOMAS HARDY
will be updated twice a week on
TUESDAYS AND THURSDAYS

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SHE AT HIS FUNERAL 

They bear him to his resting-place -

In slow procession sweeping by; 

I follow at a stranger’s space; 

His kindred they, his sweetheart I. 

Unchanged my gown of garish dye,

Though sable-sad is their attire; 

But they stand round with griefless eye, 

Whilst my regret consumes like fire! 

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Please note that my current blogs are all affected by changes this week

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