An Experience Thomas Hardy
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Wit, weight, or wealth there was not
  In anything that was said,
  In anything that was done;
All was of scope to cause not
  A triumph, dazzle, or dread
  To even the subtlest one,
    My friend,
  To even the subtlest one.
But there was a new afflation -
  An aura zephyring round,
  That care infected not:
It came as a salutation,
  And, in my sweet astound,
  I scarcely witted what
    Might pend,
  I scarcely witted what.
The hills in samewise to me
  Spoke, as they grayly gazed,
  - First hills to speak so yet!
The thin-edged breezes blew me
  What I, though cobwebbed, crazed,
  Was never to forget,
    My friend,
  Was never to forget!
  In anything that was said,
  In anything that was done;
All was of scope to cause not
  A triumph, dazzle, or dread
  To even the subtlest one,
    My friend,
  To even the subtlest one.
But there was a new afflation -
  An aura zephyring round,
  That care infected not:
It came as a salutation,
  And, in my sweet astound,
  I scarcely witted what
    Might pend,
  I scarcely witted what.
The hills in samewise to me
  Spoke, as they grayly gazed,
  - First hills to speak so yet!
The thin-edged breezes blew me
  What I, though cobwebbed, crazed,
  Was never to forget,
    My friend,
  Was never to forget!
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