The Widow

By Mellstock Lodge and Avenue
  Towards her door I went,
And sunset on her window-panes
  Reflected our intent.

The creeper on the gable nigh
  Was fired to more than red
And when I came to halt thereby
  "Bright as my joy!" I said.

Of late days it had been her aim
  To meet me in the hall;
Now at my footsteps no one came;
  And no one to my call.

Again I knocked; and tardily
  An inner step was heard,
And I was shown her presence then
  With scarce an answering word.

She met me, and but barely took
  My proffered warm embrace;
Preoccupation weighed her look,
  And hardened her sweet face.

"To-morrow--could you--would you call?
  Make brief your present stay?
My child is ill--my one, my all! -
  And can't be left to-day."

And then she turns, and gives commands
  As I were out of sound,
Or were no more to her and hers
  Than any neighbour round . . .

- As maid I wooed her; but one came
  And coaxed her heart away,
And when in time he wedded her
  I deemed her gone for aye.

He won, I lost her; and my loss
  I bore I know not how;
But I do think I suffered then
  Less wretchedness than now.

For Time, in taking him, had oped
  An unexpected door
Of bliss for me, which grew to seem
  Far surer than before . . .

Her word is steadfast, and I know
  That plighted firm are we:
But she has caught new love-calls since
  She smiled as maid on me!

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)

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…

All Thomas Hardy poems | Thomas Hardy Books

FAVORITE (0 fans)


Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

  • - Select -
  • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
  • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
  • Español (Spanish)
  • Esperanto (Esperanto)
  • 日本語 (Japanese)
  • Português (Portuguese)
  • Deutsch (German)
  • العربية (Arabic)
  • Français (French)
  • Русский (Russian)
  • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
  • 한국어 (Korean)
  • עברית (Hebrew)
  • Український (Ukrainian)
  • اردو (Urdu)
  • Magyar (Hungarian)
  • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
  • Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Italiano (Italian)
  • தமிழ் (Tamil)
  • Türkçe (Turkish)
  • తెలుగు (Telugu)
  • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
  • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
  • Čeština (Czech)
  • Polski (Polish)
  • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Românește (Romanian)
  • Nederlands (Dutch)
  • Ελληνικά (Greek)
  • Latinum (Latin)
  • Svenska (Swedish)
  • Dansk (Danish)
  • Suomi (Finnish)
  • فارسی (Persian)
  • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
  • հայերեն (Armenian)
  • Norsk (Norwegian)
  • English (English)

Discuss this Thomas Hardy poem with the community:


Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:


"The Widow" STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 27 Jan. 2020. <>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Our favorite collection of

Famous Poets


Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.