Late Lyrics and Earlier, With Many Other Verses/The Little Old Table

by Thomas Hardy

THE LITTLE OLD TABLE

CREAK, little wood thin, creak,
When I touch you with elbow or knee;
That is the way you speak
Of one who gave you to me!

You, little table, she brought—
Brought me with her own hand,
As she looked at me with a thought
That I did not understand.

—Whoever owns it anon,
And hears it, will never know
What a history hangs upon
This creak from long ago.