A Wife In London (December 1899) by Thomas Hardy

Lyrics

I - The Tragedy She sits in the tawny vapour That the Thames-side lanes have uprolled Behind whose webby fold-on-fold Like a waning taper The street-lamp glimmers cold A messenger's knock cracks smartly Flashed news in her hand Of meaning it dazes to understand Though shaped so shortly: He—he has fallen—in the far South Land… II - The Irony 'Tis the morrow; the fog hangs thicker The postman nears and goes: A letter is brought whose lines disclosе By the firelight flicker His hand, whom thе worm now knows: Fresh—firm—penned in highest feather— Page-full of his hoped return And of home-planned jaunts of brake and burn In the summer weather And of new love that they would learn