Thomas Hardy — Paths Of Former Time

        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.