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Unread 04-01-2017, 12:41 PM
Ian Hoffman Ian Hoffman is offline
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Join Date: Sep 2010
Location: Berkeley, CA
Posts: 505
Default Hidden Gems

I was reading Thomas Hardy's Complete recently (I did not have time to finish it, but I made it fairly far), and I found that, aside from the poems I and everyone knows—"Channel Firing" and "The Darkling Thrush"—there was the occasional poem that I'd never heard and which absolutely bowled me over. Perhaps these poems aren't as unknown as I thought, but I'd like to share them here and see what you all think:

Mad Judy

When the hamlet hailed a birth
...Judy used to cry:
When she heard our christening mirth
...She would kneel and sigh.
She was crazed, we knew, and we
Humoured her infirmity.

When the daughters and the sons
...Gathered them to wed,
And we like-intending ones
...Danced till dawn was red,
She would rock and mutter "More
Comers to this stony shore!"

When old Headsman Death laid hands
...On a babe or twain,
She would feast, and by her brands
...Sing her songs again.
What she liked we let her do,
Judy was insane, we knew.


This poem is great for two reasons: one, here Hardy resists his often obnoxious tendency to ramble on forever (it's hardly a surprise he was a novelist), distilling his observation into three rather morbid, pointed stanzas. And secondly, the last line remains utterly contemporary in its sad wisdom and humour. Also, this poem seems to foreshadow Yeats' "Crazy Jane Talks with the Bishop", though I doubt the influence is direct.

Then there's this:


The Church-Builder

The church flings forth a battled shade
...Over the moon-blanched sward:
The church; my gift; whereto I paid
...My all in hand and hoard;
......Lavished my gains
......With stintless pains
......To glorify the Lord.

I squared the broad foundations in
...Of ashlared masonry;
I moulded mullions thick and thin,
...Hewed fillet and ogee;
......I circleted
......Each sculptured head
......With nimb and canopy.

I called in many a craftsmaster
...To fix emblazoned glass,
To figure Cross and Sepulchure
...On dossal, boss, and brass.
......My gold all spent,
......My jewels went
......To gem the cups of Mass.

I borrowed deep to carve the screen
...And raise the ivoried Rood;
I parted with my small demesne
...To make my owings good.
......Heir-looms unpriced
......I sacrificed,
......Until debt-free I stood.

So closed the task. "Deathless the Creed
...Here substanced!" said my soul:
"I heard me bidden to this deed,
...And straight obeyed the call.
......Illume this fane,
......That not in vain
......I build it, Lord of all!"

But, as it chanced me, then and there
...Did dire misfortunes burst;
My home went waste for lack of care,
...My sons rebelled and curst;
......Till I confessed
......That aims the best
......Were looking like the worst.

Enkindled by my votive work
...No burning faith I find;
The deeper thinkers sneer and smirk,
...And give my toil no mind;
......From nod and wink
......I read they think
......That I am fool and blind.

My gift to God seems futile, quite;
...The world moves as erstwhile;
And powerful Wrong on feeble Right
...Tramples in olden style.
......My faith burns down,
......I see no crown;
......But Cares, and Griefs, and Guile.

So now, the remedy? Yea, this:
...I gently swing the door
Here, of my fane—no soul to wis—
...And cross the patterned floor
......To the rood-screen
......That stands between
......The nave and inner chore.

The rich red windows dim the moon,
...But little light need I;
I mount the prie-dieu, lately hewn
...From woods of rarest dye;
......Then from below
......My garment, so,
......I draw this cord, and tie

One end thereof around the beam
...Midway 'twixt Cross and truss:
I noose the nethermost extreme,
...And in ten seconds thus
......I journey hence—
......To that land whence
......No rumour reaches us.

Well: Here at morn they'll light on one
...Dangling in mockery
Of what he spent his substance on
...Blindly and uselessly!...
......"He might," they'll say,
......"Have built, some way,
......A cheaper gallows-tree!"


So: this one is good because, although it is rather long (in typically Hardy-ish style), it is also surprising. Too many of Hardy's long poems just kind of drag on, but this one certainly packs a punch. The enjambment of "and tie// One end thereof" is particularly uncharacteristic and brutally effective. The idea that the whole poem is spoken by a dead man is not wholly uncharacteristic of Hardy ("Channel Firing" is the same), but that he keeps that surprise for the end is also ingenious.

Anyway. I thought I'd post these up here and see if anyone else is familiar with them.

I also invite people to share poems they feel might be "hidden gems"—poems that particularly resonated with you, but are not well-known—along with a short paragraph or the like about why you like them.

Last edited by Ian Hoffman; 04-01-2017 at 12:43 PM.
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