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Poem of the Day > 176. We Field Women - Thomas Hardy

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message 1: by Lee (new)

Lee We Field-Women

Thomas Hardy

How it rained
When we worked at Flintcomb-Ash,
And could not stand upon the hill
Trimming swedes for the slicing-mill.
The wet washed through us -- plash, plash, plash:
How it rained!

How it snowed
When we crossed from Flintcomb-Ash
To the Great Barn for drawing reed,
Since we could nowise chop a swede. --
Flakes in each doorway and casement-sash:
How it snowed!

How it shone
When we went from Flintcomb-Ash
To start at dairywork once more
In the laughing meads, with cows three-score,
And pails, and songs, and love -- too rash:
How it shone!


message 2: by Lee (new)

Lee This is so simple yet so beautiful and mysterious.


message 3: by Hilary (new)

Hilary | 2082 comments A lovely poem from what must have been, and still is I suppose for many people, a very harsh life working on the land.


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