Explore "A Poet" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ATTENTIVE eyes, fantastic heed, / Assessing minds, he does not need, / Nor urgent writs to sup or dine, / Nor pledges in the roseate wine.
For loud acclaim he does not care / By the august or rich or fair, / Nor for smart pilgrims from afar, / Curious on where his hauntings are.
But soon or later, when you hear / That he has doffed this wrinkled gear, / Some evening, at the first star-ray, / Come to his graveside, pause and say:
"Whatever the message his to tell, / Two bright-souled women loved him well. " / Stand and say that amid the dim: / It will be praise enough for him.