Poetry Thomas Hardy

One day, Dad and I had lunch. After we ate we went to a bookstore on East Bay Street. While there Dad looked for a particular Thomas Hardy poem to read to me called At Tea.

AT TEA

The kettle descants in a cozy drone,
And the young wife looks in her husband's face,
And then at her guest's, and shows in her own
Her sense that she fills an envied place;
And the visiting lady is all abloom,
And says there was never so sweet a room.

And the happy young housewife does not know
That the woman beside her was first his choice,
Till the fates ordained it could not be so . . .
Betraying nothing in look or voice
The guest sits smiling and sips her tea,
And he throws her a stray glance yearningly.