The Pine Planters Thomas Hardy

I

We work here together
         In blast and breeze;
He fills the earth in,
         I hold the trees.

He does not notice
         That what I do
Keeps me from moving
         And chills me through.

He has seen one fairer
         I feel by his eye,
Which skims me as though
         I were not by.

And since she passed here
         He scarce has known
But that the woodland
         Holds him alone.

I have worked here with him
         Since morning shine,
He busy with his thoughts
         And I with mine.