A Jog-Trot Pair by Thomas Hardy

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WHO were the twain that trod this track / So many times together / Hither and back, / In spells of certain and uncertain weather?

Commonplace in conduct they / Who wandered to and fro here / Day by day: / Two that few dwellers troubled themselves to know here.

The very gravel-path was prim / That daily they would follow: / Borders trim: / Never a wayward sprout, or hump, or hollow.

Trite usages in tamest style / Had tended to their plighting. / "It's just worth while, / Perhaps," they had said. "And saves much sad good-nighting."

And petty seemed the happenings / That ministered to their joyance: / Simple things, / Onerous to satiate souls, increased their buoyance.

Who could those common people be, / Of days the plainest, barest? / They were we; / Yes; happier than the cleverest, smartest, rarest.

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