Explore "Voices from Things Growing in a Churchyard" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THESE flowers are I, poor Fanny Hurd, / Sir or Madam, / A little girl here sepultured. / Once I flit-fluttered like a bird / Above the grass, as now I wave / In daisy shapes above my grave, / All day cheerily, / All night eerily!
-I am one Bachelor Bowring, "Gent," / Sir or Madam; / In shingled oak my bones were pent; / Hence more than a hundred years I spent / In my feat of change from a coffin-thrall / To a dancer in green as leaves on a wall. / All day cheerily, / All night eerily!