Explore "Rain on a Grave" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
CLOUDS spout upon her / Their waters amain / In ruthless disdain,- / Her who but lately / Had shivered with pain / As at touch of dishonour / If there had lit on her / So coldly, so straightly / Such arrows of rain.
She who to shelter / Her delicate head / Would quicken and quicken / Each tentative tread / If drops chanced to pelt her / That summertime spills / In dust-paven rills / When thunder-clouds thicken / And birds close their bills.
Would that I lay there / And she were housed here! / Or better, together / Were folded away there / Exposed to one weather / We both,-who would stray there / When sunny the day there, / Or evening was clear / At the prime of the year.
Soon will be growing / Green blades from her mound, / And daises be showing / Like stars on the ground, / Till she form part of them- / Ay-the sweet heart of them, / Loved beyond measure / With a child's pleasure / All her life's round.