To an Unborn Pauper Child

Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy portrait

1840 to 1928

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Track 1

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And though thy birth-hour beckons thee,
Sleep the long sleep:
In full for thee; can dream thou'lt find
Must come and bide. And such are we-
Joys seldom yet attained by humankind!
That I can hope
Hopes dwindle; yea,
To theeward fly: to thy locked sense
Thou wilt thy ignorant entry make
Though skies spout fire and blood and nations quake.
Ere their terrestrial chart unrolls,
Of earth's wide wold for thee, where not
Affections and enthusiasms numb:
Explain none can
And put it to thee: Wilt thou take Life so?
To cease, or be,
But I am weak as thou and bare;
And thou wert free
Then would I tell thee all I know,
Health, love, friends, scope
No man can change the common lot to rare.
Vain vow! No hint of mine may hence
Unreasoning, sanguine, visionary-
Fain would I, dear, find some shut plot
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently,
Thou canst not mend these things if thou dost come.
Had I the ear of wombed souls
One tear, one qualm,
Faiths waste away,
Should break the calm.
Travails and teens around us here,
Hark, how the peoples surge and sigh,
Life's pending plan:
The Doomsters heap
And laughters fail, and greetings die;
And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear.

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Poet portrait