IN THE GARDEN...

By Thomas Hardy

IN THE GARDEN

( M. H.)

We waited for the sun

To break its cloudy prison

( For day was not yet done,

And night still unbegun )

Leaning by the dial.

After many a trial -

We all silent there -

It burst as new-arisen,

Throwing a shade to where

Time travelled at that minute.

Little saw we in it,

But this much I know,

Of lookers on that shade,

Her towards whom it made

Soonest had to go.