The Ransom selection of Hardy is a curious book---
a wonderful introduction but a very odd choice of
poems; perhaps because of his own 19th century
theological preoccupations. In any case, he leaves
out a good many of Hardy's best things.
Caleb, it's not my business to correct your taste
or judgment---maybe time and more reading will do
the job. Alicia's poem is lovely but not Hardyesque,
as far as I can see. Also, Hardy has many poems in
which there are no awkwardnesses or eccentricities
of diction, just plain, accurate language and, always,
his marvelous ear. Here's an example:
TRANSFORMATIONS
Portion of this yew
Is a man my grandsire knew,
Bosomed here at its foot:
This branch may be his wife,
A ruddy human life
Now turned to a green shoot.
These grasses must be made
Of her who often prayed,
Last century, for repose;
And the fair girl long ago
Whom I vainly tried to know
May be entering this rose.
So, they are not underground,
But as nerves and veins abound
In the growths of upper air,
And they feel the sun and rain,
And the energy again
That made them what they were!
We should all live to write half so well.
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