I
Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.
II
Only thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onward the same
Though Dynasties pass.
III
Yonder a maid and her wight
Come whispering by:
War's annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.
1915.
In Time Of "the Breaking Of Nations"[1]
Thomas Hardy
(1)
Poem topics: cloud, horse, night, walk, war, grass, silent, story, flame, slow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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