Explore "She Hears the Storm" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THERE was a time in former years- / While my roof-tree was his- / When I should have been distressed by fears / At such a night as this!
I should have murmured anxiously, / "The pricking rain strikes cold; / His road is bare of hedge or tree, / And he is getting old."
But now the fitful chimney-roar, / The drone of Thorncombe trees, / The Froom in flood upon the moor, / The mud of Mellstock Leaze,
The candle slanting sooty wick'd, / The thuds upon the thatch, / The eaves-drops on the window flicked, / The clacking garden-hatch,
And what they mean to wayfarers, / I scarcely heed or mind; / He has won that storm-tight roof of hers / Which Earth grants all her kind.