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Thomas Hardy : The Weathers

			I
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
		And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
		And nestlings fly:
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at “The Travellers’ Rest,”
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
		And so do I.

			II
This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
		And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
		And thresh, and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate-bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
		And so do I. 

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)	?

 
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