Thomas Hardy — By Henstridge Cross at the year’s end

       &nbsp Why go the east road now? . . . That way a youth went on a morrow After mirth, and he brought back sorrow        &nbsp Painted upon his brow        &nbsp Why go the east road now?        &nbsp Why go the north road now? Torn, leaf-strewn, as if scoured by foemen, Once edging fiefs of my forefolk yeomen,        &nbsp Fallows fat to the plough:        &nbsp Why go the north road now?        &nbsp Why go the west road now? Thence to us came she, bosom-burning, Welcome with joyousness returning . . .        &nbsp - She sleeps under the bough:        &nbsp Why go the west road now?        &nbsp Why go the south road now? That way marched they some are forgetting, Stark to the moon left, past regretting        &nbsp Loves who have falsed their vow . . .        &nbsp Why go the south road now?        &nbsp Why go any road now? White stands the handpost for brisk on-bearers, “Halt!” is the word for wan-cheeked farers        &nbsp Musing on Whither, and How . . .        &nbsp Why go any road now?        &nbsp “Yea: we want new feet now” Answer the stones. “Want chit-chat, laughter: Plenty of such to go hereafter        &nbsp By our tracks, we trow!        &nbsp We are for new feet now.