When I was last at home in Cork, I picked up a second-hand poetry anthology which I keep by my bed. It was originally owned by a 14 year old girl who has annotated the poems which she had to learn for school. The poems are divided up by theme. In the section on seasons, there is a poem by Thomas Hardy, “Weathers”. I feel it’s fair to say that Thomas Hardy is not the most obscure of poets, he pretty much says what he means.
The first stanza of “Weathers” goes as follows:
This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at ‘The Traveller’s Rest,’
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
And so do I.
Beside this in rounded, firm handwriting, our student has written the word “Spring”. Indeed.
It seemed like a good idea at the time – please can I have my book back…..
You should see my copy of The Prologue of Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales. It is where he introduces the characters and I drew handsome little cartoons of them all in the margin. From the gaptoothed wife of bath to the rather camp Squire, and the disgusting Miller. The exam adjudicator who flicked through it before my English exam (to check I wasn’t hiding exam answer, I suppose) chuckled at some of them. They helped me flick to the right sections and gave me quick reminders of each of their pesonalities.
Hardy dressed in sprig muslin? Now that I didn’t know!
Aphra