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The Life of Thomas Hardy

Whilst Fancy-Maid of Mellstock fame,
Resembles time of Sun and Rain,
   Twixt sowing and the Sickle.

Like broken mound on Barrowed Ridge,
Was Henchard, Mayor of Casterbridge,
For each within held Secret old;
Till Chance ordained it should be told,
   The hidden past revealing.

Hath old age dimmed! nay, now we see
The Master's hand in Tragedy,
For Shades of Cornwall—stern and grim—
From out the past, have prompted him
   To pen Queen Iseult's story.

A tragic theme—fate haunted Lovers,
Find death beneath Tintagel's towers,
An Epic Poem the world will praise—
And pray the Bard anon will raise
   Sweet Lay—with Happy ending.

A. C. Cox.

Dorchester,
15—11—23.


You must read it charitably. Having done so, you are granted fresh insight into the processes by which Max Gate disseminates its tragic influence. Its seeds bear fruit even on stony ground. Imperfect fruit, yes. But illuminating, even by reason of its imperfection.

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Back at the King's Arms, you toast your toes before the fire. The sitting-room is fairly cosy. The white-

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