Wessex Poems by Thomas Hardy - 32/48. Friends Beyond (read by Libby Gohn)

William Dewey, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow, Latip Plough, Roberts Kinn and Johns and Neds, and the Squire and Lady Susan lie in Melstock churchyard now. Gone, I call them, gone for good, That group of local hearts and heads, Yet at mothy curfew-tide, and at midnight When the noon heat breathes it back From walls and leads, they've a way Of whispering to me, fellow white Who yet abide, in the muted, measured note Of a ripple under archways, or a lone cave Still aside. We have triumphed! This achievement Turns the bane to antidote, Unsuccesses to success, Many thought-worn eves and morrows, To a morrow free of thought. No more need we corn and clothing, Free of old terrestrial stress, Chilled detraction stirs no sigh, Fear of death has even bygone us, Death gave all that we possess. W.D. You mid burn the wooled base vial I set such valley by. Squire You may hold the Manson fee, You may wed my spouse, my children's memory Of me may decry. Lady You may have my rich brooches, my laces, Take each household key, ransack, coffer, desk, bureau, Quiz the few poor treasures hid there, Con the letters kept by me. Farr You mid zell my favourite heifer, You mid let the charlotte grow, Foul the grinturns, give up thrift. Wife If ye break my best blue china, children, I shan't care o' ho. All We've no wish to hear the tidings, How the people's fortunes shift, What your daily doings are, Who are wedded, born, divided, If your lives beat slow or swift. Curious not in the least are we, If our intents you make or mar, If you choir to our old tune, If the city stage still passes, If the weirs still roar afar. Thus, with very God's composure, Freed those crosses late and soon, Which in life the trine allow, Why none witteth? And, ignoring all that haps beneath the moon, William Dewey, Tranter Reuben, Farmer Ledlow, Laetit Plough, Roberts, Kinn, and Johns, and Neds, And the Squire, and Lady Susan, Murmur mildly to me now.