Read "To my Father's Violin" by Thomas Hardy online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
DOES he want you down there / In the Nether Glooms where / The hours may be a dragging load upon him, / As he hears the axle grind / Round and round / Of the great world, in the blind / Still profound / Of the night-time? He might liven at the sound / Of your string, revealing you had not forgone him.
In the gallery west the nave, / But a few yards from his grave, / Did you, tucked beneath his chin, to his bowing / Guide the homely harmony / Of the quire / Who for long years strenuously- / Son and sire- / Caught the strains that at his fingering low or higher / From your four thin threads and eff-holes came outflowing.