The Poetry Corner

Outside The Casement

By Thomas Hardy

A Reminiscence Of The War We sat in the room And praised her whom We saw in the portico-shade outside: She could not hear What was said of her, But smiled, for its purport we did not hide. Then in was brought That message, fraught With evil fortune for her out there, Whom we loved that day More than any could say, And would fain have fenced from a waft of care. And the question pressed Like lead on each breast, Should we cloak the tidings, or call her and tell? It was too intense A choice for our sense, As we pondered and watched her we loved so well. Yea, spirit failed us At what assailed us; How long, while seeing what soon must come, Should we counterfeit No knowledge of it, And stay the stroke that would blanch and numb? And thus, before For evermore Joy left her, we practised to beguile Her innocence when She now and again Looked in, and smiled us another smile.