Wessex Poems and Other Verses by Thomas Hardy
page 55 of 106 (51%)
page 55 of 106 (51%)
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THE DANCE AT THE PHOENIX To Jenny came a gentle youth From inland leazes lone, His love was fresh as apple-blooth By Parrett, Yeo, or Tone. And duly he entreated her To be his tender minister, And call him aye her own. Fair Jenny's life had hardly been A life of modesty; At Casterbridge experience keen Of many loves had she From scarcely sixteen years above; Among them sundry troopers of The King's-Own Cavalry. But each with charger, sword, and gun, Had bluffed the Biscay wave; And Jenny prized her gentle one For all the love he gave. She vowed to be, if they were wed, His honest wife in heart and head From bride-ale hour to grave. Wedded they were. Her husband's trust |
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