The Poetry Corner

Everything Comes

By Thomas Hardy

"The house is bleak and cold Built so new for me! All the winds upon the wold Search it through for me; No screening trees abound, And the curious eyes around Keep on view for me." "My Love, I am planting trees As a screen for you Both from winds, and eyes that tease And peer in for you. Only wait till they have grown, No such bower will be known As I mean for you." "Then I will bear it, Love, And will wait," she said. - So, with years, there grew a grove. "Skill how great!" she said. "As you wished, Dear?" - "Yes, I see! But - I'm dying; and for me 'Tis too late," she said.