In Honor of Poetry Month

I had been thinking I would post something in recognition of Poetry Month, but was somewhat at a loss to know just what, when I came across this little poem of Thomas Hardy's that I thought might be worthy. It's called "The Caged Bird."

Within a churchyard, on a recent grave,
                 I saw a little cage
That jailed a goldfinch. All was silence save
                 Its hops from stage to stage.

There was inquiry in its wistful eye,
                 And once it tried to sing;
Of him or her who placed it there, and why,
                 No one knew anything.

True, a woman was found drowned the day ensuing,
                 And some at times averred
That grave to be her false one's, who when wooing
                  Gave her the bird.

My wife says this is awful, and a disservice to Hardy. But I find it quite profound. Like much of Hardy's poetry, it frustrates interpretation. I understand that Hardy lost his nerve and cut the final stanza, but I have restored it to make the poem whole once more. And yes, the slang expression in the final line was apparently current in Hardy's day, or so I was informed by a recent TLS review of Hardy criticism.