Hardy Sees Upon Writing Tess Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Sleeping now on the open plateau
I see the gypsies arriving in bright display
Pouring like spring into the town,
Opening like the trap of flowers,
Lets see what they will steal.

A heart or two fluttering,
In the blue field nearby the quiet house
Where the farmer sleeps,
The maidens walk out early
And dance in a ring,
Virgin palms clammy and clasping,
Going round and around,
They are all chanting for a man.

Here he comes walking,
The gentleman of ancient ancestry:
He is a good man who will save many lives,
But will any of the naive woman find him,
Or will they choose the darker stranger
Now rushing from the hunt,
Smelling of all the things
He has killed and conquered
Disturbing the night,
He has stolen a name to suite him,
And as he moves he rends the world before
Him, causing the maidens
To gasp and hold themselves
From the galloping cold
Of this man, who will take many a maiden’s head,
Though only one may call him husband.