Thomas Hardy — The Whipper-in

My father was the whipper-in, -        &nbspIs still - if I’m not misled? And now I see, where the hedge is thin,        &nbsp A little spot of red;        &nbsp Surely it is my father        &nbsp Going to the kennel-shed! “I cursed and fought my father - aye,        &nbsp And sailed to a foreign land; And feeling sorry, I’m back, to stay,        &nbsp Please God, as his helping hand.        &nbsp Surely it is my father        &nbsp Near where the kennels stand?” “ - True. Whipper-in he used to be        &nbsp For twenty years or more; And you did go away to sea        &nbsp As youths have done before.        &nbsp Yes, oddly enough that red there        &nbsp Is the very coat he wore. “But he - he’s dead; was thrown somehow,        &nbsp And gave his back a crick, And though that is his coat, ‘tis now        &nbsp The scarecrow of a rick;        &nbsp You’ll see when you get nearer -        &nbsp ’Tis spread out on a stick. “You see, when all had settled down        &nbsp Your mother’s things were sold, And she went back to her own town,        &nbsp And the coat, ate out with mould,        &nbsp Is now used by the farmer        &nbsp For scaring, as ‘tis old.”