ADDENDUM NUMBER 2 TO
"A LETTER OF LAMENTATION TO AMERICA: THE UNITED STATES
IS NO LONGER A SERIOUS NATION"
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"The Oxen"
By
Thomas Hardy

......................................................................Christmas Eve, and twelve of the clock.
......................................................................"Now they are all on their knees,"
......................................................................An elder said as we sat in a flock
......................................................................By the embers in hearthside ease.

...................................................................... We pictured the meek mild creatures where
......................................................................They dwelt in their strawy pen,
......................................................................Nor did it occur to one of us there
......................................................................To doubt they were kneeling then.

......................................................................So fair a fancy few would weave
......................................................................In these years! Yet, I feel,
......................................................................If someone said on Christmas Eve,
......................................................................"Come; see the oxen kneel

......................................................................"In the lonely barton by yonder comb
......................................................................Our childhood used to know,"
......................................................................I should go with him in the gloom,
......................................................................Hoping it might be so.
............................................................................................................................................[1916]

Note to the reader: That Hardy wrote this poem in the very midst of the World War I years—a time that swept conventional faith away for many—gives meaning to the ninth line and part of the tenth, "So fair a fancy few would weave / In these years!" A line that's gorgeous with its three alliterated "f" words followed by the two "w" words, the whole of that followed by the lovely assonance inside "few, " "weave," "these," and "years"—with all this wonder and dexterity in its own "weaving," the line is also the fulcrum of the poem, or hinge. Before it are childhood, the past, memory, legend, and belief; after it are the war ("these years"), loss, adulthood, the absence of "fancy" and, by extension, of faith. As far as "non-god" is concerned, or as far as loss of belief is concerned, the key word is "Hoping." I myself can't accept the idea that Hardy is in any way "wishing" or "hoping" that faith will somehow actually return—he's far, far too deep and penetrating and absolutely unsentimental a thinker for that to be the case. On the other hand, it's indisputable that the meaning of "Hoping" remains of key importance to the whole poem. I myself think of it as meaning that Hardy respects and even reveres what once was—and that he'd love as much as anyone to have a glimpse of it, knowing now that's gone.

..........................................................................................................................................................................—EL

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