"At Castle Boterel" is an elegy from "Poems 1912-13," a sequence in which Thomas Hardy reflects on his years with his late wife Emma Gifford. In this poem, Hardy revisits a road they walked together early in their courtship, reminiscing on the beauty of the moment they shared and reckoning with the loss of the "girlish form" he loved. The poem suggests that love imprints certain moments in the memory, but that even the sweetest memories can't last forever. Because life is fleeting, moreover, it's important to confront the past in order to make the most of the future. Along with the rest of the "Poems 1912-13" sequence, "At Castle Boterel" appears in the collection Satires of Circumstance (1914).
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1As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,
2And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
3I look behind at the fading byway,
4And see on its slope, now glistening wet,
5Distinctly yet
6Myself and a girlish form benighted
7In dry March weather. We climb the road
8Beside a chaise. We had just alighted
9To ease the sturdy pony's load
10When he sighed and slowed.
11What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of
12Matters not much, nor to what it led,—
13Something that life will not be balked of
14Without rude reason till hope is dead,
15And feeling fled.
16It filled but a minute. But was there ever
17A time of such quality, since or before,
18In that hill's story? To one mind never,
19Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,
20By thousands more.
21Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border,
22And much have they faced there, first and last,
23Of the transitory in Earth's long order;
24But what they record in colour and cast
25Is—that we two passed.
26And to me, though Time's unflinching rigour,
27In mindless rote, has ruled from sight
28The substance now, one phantom figure
29Remains on the slope, as when that night
30Saw us alight.
31I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,
32I look back at it amid the rain
33For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,
34And I shall traverse old love's domain
35Never again.
1As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,
2And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
3I look behind at the fading byway,
4And see on its slope, now glistening wet,
5Distinctly yet
6Myself and a girlish form benighted
7In dry March weather. We climb the road
8Beside a chaise. We had just alighted
9To ease the sturdy pony's load
10When he sighed and slowed.
11What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of
12Matters not much, nor to what it led,—
13Something that life will not be balked of
14Without rude reason till hope is dead,
15And feeling fled.
16It filled but a minute. But was there ever
17A time of such quality, since or before,
18In that hill's story? To one mind never,
19Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,
20By thousands more.
21Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border,
22And much have they faced there, first and last,
23Of the transitory in Earth's long order;
24But what they record in colour and cast
25Is—that we two passed.
26And to me, though Time's unflinching rigour,
27In mindless rote, has ruled from sight
28The substance now, one phantom figure
29Remains on the slope, as when that night
30Saw us alight.
31I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,
32I look back at it amid the rain
33For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,
34And I shall traverse old love's domain
35Never again.
As I drive to the junction of lane and highway,
And the drizzle bedrenches the waggonette,
I look behind at the fading byway,
And see on its slope, now glistening wet,
Distinctly yet
Myself and a girlish form benighted
In dry March weather. We climb the road
Beside a chaise. We had just alighted
To ease the sturdy pony's load
When he sighed and slowed.
What we did as we climbed, and what we talked of
Matters not much, nor to what it led,—
Something that life will not be balked of
Without rude reason till hope is dead,
And feeling fled.
It filled but a minute. But was there ever
A time of such quality, since or before,
In that hill's story? To one mind never,
Though it has been climbed, foot-swift, foot-sore,
By thousands more.
Primaeval rocks form the road's steep border,
And much have they faced there, first and last,
Of the transitory in Earth's long order;
But what they record in colour and cast
Is—that we two passed.
And to me, though Time's unflinching rigour,
In mindless rote, has ruled from sight
The substance now, one phantom figure
Remains on the slope, as when that night
Saw us alight.
I look and see it there, shrinking, shrinking,
I look back at it amid the rain
For the very last time; for my sand is sinking,
And I shall traverse old love's domain
Never again.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
A Biography of Thomas Hardy — Read more about the poet's life and career in this Poetry Foundation article.
The Thomas Hardy Society — Browse the website of the Thomas Hardy Society, a resource for understanding and appreciating one of England's most renowned writers.
Hardy on the BBC — Watch the documentary "Thomas Hardy: Fate, Exclusion and Tragedy."
An Introduction to the Victorian Era — Learn about the historical period in which Hardy wrote.
A "Diary" on Hardy and Gifford — An essay outlining Thomas Hardy and Emma Gifford's complicated marriage and the poems it inspired.