Nuetral Tones – By Thomas Hardy

WE stood by a pond that winter day,


And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,


And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;


– They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.


Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove


Over tedious riddles solved years ago;


And some words played between us to and fro


On which lost the more by our love.


The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing


Alive enough to have strength to die;


And a grin of bitterness swept thereby


Like an ominous bird a-wing….


Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,


And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me


Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,


And a pond edged with grayish leaves.