Welcome back to the Daily Poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kern.

Today's poem is by Thomas Hardy, an English novelist and poet. He is, of course, known for his novels like Tessa the Duberville's, Jude the Obscure, far from the Madding Crowd, and many others.

And he is certainly known for his poetry. He was

beloved by poets like W.H. Auden and Philip Larkin and Ezra Pound, among many others. The poem

that I'm going to read today is called During Wind and Rain. Today is a gross, windy, rainy,

cold day here in North Carolina.

So this poem was on the brain.

And I suspect that many of you, this mid-November day,

are dealing with very similar circumstances, very similar weather.

So without further to hear it, it's Thomas Hardy's, during wind and rain.

They sing their dearest songs, he, she, all of them, yea, trouble and tenor and bass, and one to play,

with the candles mooning each face.

Ah, no, the years, oh, how the sick leaves reel down and throngs.

They clear the creeping moss, elders and juniors,

making the pathway neat and the garden gay, and they build a shady seat.

Oh no, the years, the years, see the white stormbirds wing across. They are blithely

breakfasting all, men and maidens, yea, under the summer tree with a glimpse of the bay, while pet fowl come to the knee.

Oh, no. The years, oh, and the rotten rose is ripped from the wall.

They change to a high new house.

He, she, all of them.

I clocks and carpets and chairs in the lawn all day and brightest things that are theirs.

Oh, no.

...