Thomas Hardy’s Poetry in Song

Four of twelve Hardy poems
set to music, composed and sung by

Lewis Alpaugh

Set 3

A BROKEN APPOINTMENT

                       You did not come,
And marching Time drew on, and wore me numb.—
Yet less for loss of your dear presence there
Then that I thus found lacking in your make
That high compassion which can overbear
Reluctance for pure loving kindness’ sake
Grieved I, when, as the hope-hour stroked its sum,
                      You did not come.
 
                      You love not me,
And love alone can lend you loyalty;
--I know and knew it.   But unto the store
Of human deeds divine in all but name,
Was it not worth a little hour or more
To add yet this:  Once you, a woman, came
To soothe a time-worn man;  even though it be
                      You love not me?

 

A BROKEN APPOINTMENT

I ROSE UP AS MY CUSTOM IS

I rose up as my custom is
   On the eve of All-Souls’ day,
And left my grave for an hour or so
To call on those I used to know
   Before I passed away.
 
I visited my former Love
   As she lay by her husband’s side;
I asked her if life pleased her, now
She was rid of a poet wrung in brow,
   And crazed with the ills he eyed;
 
Who used to drag her here and there
   Wherever his fancies led,
And point out pale phantasmal things,
And talk of vain vague purposings
   That she discredited.
 
She was quite civil, and replied,
   “Old comrade, is that you?
Well, on the whole, I like my life---
I know I swore I’d be no wife,
   But what was I to do?
 
“You see, of all men for my sex
   A poet is the worst;
Women are practical, and they
Crave the wherewith to pay their way,
   And slake their social thirst.
 
“You were a poet---quite the ideal
   That we all love awhile:
But look at this man snoring here---
He’s no romantic chanticleer,
   Yet keeps me in good style.
 
“He makes no quest into my thoughts,
   But a poet wants to know
What one has felt from earliest days,
Why one thought not in other ways,
   And one’s Loves of long ago.”
 
Her words benumbed my fond faint ghost;
   The nightmares neighed from their stalls,
The vampires screeched, the harpies flew,
And under the dim dawn I withdrew
   To Death’s inviolate halls.

I ROSE UP AS MY CUSTOM IS

IN TIME OF “THE BREAKING OF NATIONS”

                      I
Only a man harrowing clods
   In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
   Half asleep as they walk.
 
                     II
Only thin smoke without flame
   From the heaps of couch grass;
Yet this will go onward the same
   Though Dynasties pass.
 
                     III
Yonder a maid and her wight
   Come whispering by;
War’s annals will fade into night
   Ere their story die.

IN TIME OF “THE BREAKING OF NATIONS”

THE COLOUR

“What shall I bring you!
Please will white do
Best for your wearing
        The long day througn?”
“------White is for weddings,
Weddings, weddings,
White is for weddings,
        And that won’t do.”
 
“What shall I bring you!
Please will red do
Best for your wearing
        The long day througn?”
“------Red is for soldiers,
Soldiers, soldiers,
Red is for soldiers,
        And that won’t do.”
 
“What shall I bring you!
Please will blue do
Best for your wearing
        The long day througn?”
“------Blue is for sailors,
Sailors, sailors,
Blue is for sailors,
        And that won’t do.”
 
“What shall I bring you!
Please will green do
Best for your wearing
        The long day througn?”
“------Green is for mayings
Mayings, mayings,
Green is for mayings,
        And that won’t do.”
 
“What shall I Bring you!
Then?  Will black do
Best for your wearing
        The long day througn?”
“-----Black is for mourning,
Mourning, mourning,
Black is for mourning,
      And black will do.
 

THE COLOUR with Jenny Gill

Listen to More
Set 1

Set 2