Thomas Hardy's "Hap" laments the fact that life is governed by chance ("happenstance"). The poem's downtrodden speaker argues that even a cruel god would, in a way, be preferable to random bad luck. Hardy wrote "Hap" in 1866 and later included it in his debut poetry collection, Wessex Poems and Other Verses, in 1898. The poem combines both the English and Italian sonnet forms.
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1If but some vengeful god would call to me
2From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
3Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
4That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
5Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
6Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
7Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
8Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.
9But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
10And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
11—Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
12And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan...
13These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
14Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
1If but some vengeful god would call to me
2From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
3Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
4That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
5Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
6Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
7Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
8Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.
9But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
10And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
11—Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
12And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan...
13These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
14Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
If but some vengeful god would call to me
From up the sky, and laugh: "Thou suffering thing,
Know that thy sorrow is my ecstasy,
That thy love's loss is my hate's profiting!"
Then would I bear it, clench myself, and die,
Steeled by the sense of ire unmerited;
Half-eased in that a Powerfuller than I
Had willed and meted me the tears I shed.
But not so. How arrives it joy lies slain,
And why unblooms the best hope ever sown?
—Crass Casualty obstructs the sun and rain,
And dicing Time for gladness casts a moan...
These purblind Doomsters had as readily strown
Blisses about my pilgrimage as pain.
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 Reading of the Poem — The poem out loud, read by YouTube reader Tom O'Bedlam.
The Hardy Society — Check out a wide range of resources provided by the society set up in Hardy's honor.
Thomas Hardy Documentary — Watch a BBC documentary about Hardy's life and works.
Victorian Pessimism — The British podcast "In Our Time" discusses the general atmosphere of pessimism in which Hardy was writing.