“Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have set us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!
“But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him and he at me,
And killed him in his place.
“I shot at him 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.”
~ Thomas Hardy, “The Man He Killed”

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Curious indeed. Brilliant choice, Kathy.
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Oh, how sad, but true. I hadn’t seen this poem of his before, thanks!
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I’m just getting to some of my emails. What a powerful poem, Kathy. Thanks for putting it here.
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