
The old neighbour and the new Thomas Hardy
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’Twas to greet the new rector I called I here,
  But in the arm-chair I see
My old friend, for long years installed here,
  Who palely nods to me.
The new man explains what he’s planning
  In a smart and cheerful tone,
And I listen, the while that I’m scanning
  The figure behind his own.
The newcomer urges things on me;
  I return a vague smile thereto,
The olden face gazing upon me
  Just as it used to do!
And on leaving I scarcely remember
  Which neighbour to-day I have seen,
The one carried out in September,
  Or him who but entered yestreen.
  But in the arm-chair I see
My old friend, for long years installed here,
  Who palely nods to me.
The new man explains what he’s planning
  In a smart and cheerful tone,
And I listen, the while that I’m scanning
  The figure behind his own.
The newcomer urges things on me;
  I return a vague smile thereto,
The olden face gazing upon me
  Just as it used to do!
And on leaving I scarcely remember
  Which neighbour to-day I have seen,
The one carried out in September,
  Or him who but entered yestreen.
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