Day 12 - Ah, Are You Digging on My Grave - by Thomas Hardy

I'm taking an Animal Welfare course through the University of Edinburgh put on by Coursera (which I highly recommend) and thought this funny poem was most appropriate.  We love our pets, our cats and dogs, and often anthropomorphise them with having human emotions (it's true, they do).  I love this poem because it highlights not only that we project our own feelings onto others, even animals, but that we think people will actually miss us when we are gone.

Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928) was born in England, and at age sixteen began to apprentice as an Architect. He won some prizes for his work. He met his wife, Emma, while restoring a church in Cornwall. Unfortunately, she died in 1912 and he never fully recovered though he did remarry.

Hardy's work, especially his novels, has been both highly praised and highly criticized.  After intense criticism for his novel Jude the Obscure, he gave up writing novels and concentrated instead on poetry.  He did receive an Order of Merit for his poetry.

Here is my spoken version of this poem:
https://soundcloud.com/raindrop-11/ah-are-you-digging-on-my-grave


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Ah, Are You Digging On My Grave? by Thomas Hardy

"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
My loved one? -- planting rue?"
-- "No: yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
'That I should not be true.'"

"Then who is digging on my grave,
My nearest dearest kin?"
-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"

"But someone digs upon my grave?
My enemy? -- prodding sly?"
-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
And cares not where you lie.

"Then, who is digging on my grave?
Say -- since I have not guessed!"
-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog , who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?"

"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...
Why flashed it not to me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among human kind
A dog's fidelity!"

"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
It was your resting place."

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I think we miss our pets more than they miss us, don't you think?

Here is a song of this poem:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Jz2aL5njBw