The Bullfinches

Thomas Hardy 1840 (Stinsford) – 1928 (Dorchester, Dorset)

Bother Bulleys, let us sing
  From the dawn till evening! -
For we know not that we go not
  When the day's pale pinions fold
  Unto those who sang of old.

  When I flew to Blackmoor Vale,
  Whence the green-gowned faeries hail,
Roosting near them I could hear them
  Speak of queenly Nature's ways,
  Means, and moods,--well known to fays.

  All we creatures, nigh and far
  (Said they there), the Mother's are:
Yet she never shows endeavour
  To protect from warrings wild
  Bird or beast she calls her child.

  Busy in her handsome house
  Known as Space, she falls a-drowse;
Yet, in seeming, works on dreaming,
  While beneath her groping hands
  Fiends make havoc in her bands.

  How her hussif'ry succeeds
  She unknows or she unheeds,
All things making for Death's taking!
  --So the green-gowned faeries say
  Living over Blackmoor way.

  Come then, brethren, let us sing,
  From the dawn till evening! -
For we know not that we go not
  When the day's pale pinions fold
  Unto those who sang of old.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy, was a Scottish Minister, Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland and Professor of Eccesiastical History at Edinburgh University. more…

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"The Bullfinches" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 5 Aug. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/36483/the-bullfinches>.

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