Daily Archives: August 3, 2017

I Looked Up from My Writing

BY THOMAS HARDY

I Looked Up from My WritingI looked up from my writing,

  And gave a start to see,

As if rapt in my inditing,

  The moon’s full gaze on me.
.

Her meditative misty head

  Was spectral in its air,

And I involuntarily said,

  ‘What are you doing there?’
.

‘Oh, I’ve been scanning pond and hole

  And waterway hereabout

For the body of one with a sunken soul

  Who has put his life-light out.
.

‘Did you hear his frenzied tattle?

  It was sorrow for his son

Who is slain in brutish battle,

  Though he has injured none.
.

‘And now I am curious to look

  Into the blinkered mind

Of one who wants to write a book

  In a world of such a kind.’
.

Her temper overwrought me,

  And I edged to shun her view,

For I felt assured she thought me

  One who should drown him too.

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