Paths Of Former Time by Thomas Hardy Lyrics

        No; no;
   It must not be so:
They are the ways we do not go.

        Still chew
   The kine, and moo
In the meadows we used to wander through;

        Still purl
   The rivulets and curl
Towards the weirs with a musical swirl;

         Haymakers
   As in former years
Rake rolls into heaps that the pitchfork rears;

        Wheels crack
   On the turfy track
The waggon pursues with its toppling pack.

        "Why then shun -
   Since summer's not done -
All this because of the lack of one?"
        Had you been
   Sharer of that scene
You would not ask while it bites in keen

         Why it is so
   We can no more go
By the summer paths we used to know!

1913.