The Dead Bastard
Many and many a time I thought, ‘Would my child were in its grave!’ Such the trouble and shame it brought. Now ’tis there. And now I’d brave Opinion’s worst, in word or act, To have that child alive; yes, slave To dress and flaunt it to attract; Show it the gossips brazenly, And let as nothing be the fact That never its father married me.
Thomas Hardy’s other poems:
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