Explore "The Woman in the Rye" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"WHY do you stand in the dripping rye, / Cold-lipped, unconscious, wet to the knee, / When there are firesides near? " said I. / "I told him I wished him dead," said she.
"Yea, cried it in my haste to one / Whom I had loved, whom I well loved still; / And die he did. And I hate the sun, / And stand here lonely, aching, chill;
"Stand waiting, waiting under skies / That blow reproach, the while I see / The rooks sheer off to where he lies / Wrapt in a peace withheld from me. "