Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Poetry Wednesday: The Man He Killed


The Man He Killed

Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!


But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.


I shot him dead because —
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That’s clear enough; although


He thought he’d ‘list, perhaps,
Off-hand like — just as I —

Was out of work — had sold his traps —
No other reason why.

Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You’d treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown.

by Thomas Hardy
Courtesy Everyman's Library

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