Featured Poem: ‘Weathers’, by Thomas Hardy

The British summer has a lot going for it if you happen to be a meteorologist or a poet. Thomas Hardy wrote a lot about weather, in his poetry and in his novels. The contrast between spring and autumn in these two stanzas is beautifully done, connecting the natural run of the seasons with the human (and animal) needs. For the next few weeks at least let's have more of the weather the cuckoo likes.

Weathers

This is the weather the cuckoo likes,

And so do I;

When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,

And nestlings fly;

And the little brown nightingale bills his best,

And they sit outside at 'The Traveller's Rest,'

And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,

And citizens dream of the south and west,

And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,

And so do I;

When beeches drip in browns and duns,

And thresh and ply;

And hill-hid tides throb, throe on throe,

And meadow rivulets overflow,

And drops on gate bars hang in a row,

And rooks in families homeward go,

And so do I.

By Thomas Hardy

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