The Pity Of It
I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, afar From rail-track and from highway, and I heard In field and farmstead many an ancient word Of local lineage like "Thu bist," "Er war," "Ich woll," "Er sholl," and by-talk similar, Nigh as they speak who in this month's moon gird At England's very loins, thereunto spurred By gangs whose glory threats and slaughters are. Then seemed a Heart crying: "Whosoever they be At root and bottom of this, who flung this flame Between kin folk kin tongued even as are we, "Sinister, ugly, lurid, be their fame; May their familiars grow to shun their name, And their brood perish everlastingly." April 1915.
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"I walked in loamy Wessex lanes, afar..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Thomas Hardy delivers a powerful performance in "The Pity Of It"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...