She at His Funeral
Thomas Hardy
1840 to 1928
Track 1
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They bear him to his resting-place –
In slow sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger’s space;
His they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!