Thomas Hardy offers the ingredients of a happy life in this songlike tribute to cider, dance, and love – with the last mentioned perhaps given pride of place! The artless positivity seems rather out of kilter with the poet’s customary brooding nature. 

 

        GREAT THINGS

 

Sweet cider is a great thing,

A great thing to me,

Spinning down to Weymouth town

By Ridgway thirstily,

And maid and mistress summoning

Who tend the hostelry:

O cider is a great thing,

A great thing to me!

~

The dance it is a great thing,

A great thing to me,

With candles lit and partners fit

For night-long revelry;

And going home when day-dawning

Peeps pale upon the lee:

O dancing is a great thing,

A great thing to me!

~

Love is, yea, a great thing,

A great thing to me,

When, having drawn across the lawn

In darkness silently,

A figure flits like one a-wing

Out from the nearest tree:

A love is, yes, a great thing

A great thing to me!

~

Will these be always great things,

Great things to me?. . .

Let it befall that One will call,

‘Soul, I have need of thee.’

What then? Joy-jaunts, impassioned flings,

Love, and its ecstasy,

Will always have been great things,

Great things to me!