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The Man He Killed

by Thomas Hardy


    Had he and I but met
    By some old ancient inn,
    We should have sat us down to wet
    Right many a nipperkin!

    But ranged as infantry,
    And staring face to face,
    I shot at him as he at me,
    And killed him in his place.

    I shot him dead because —
    Because he was my foe,
    Just so: my foe of course he was;
    That's clear enough; although

    He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
    Off-hand like — just as I —
    Was out of work — had sold his traps —
    No other reason why.

    Yes; quaint and curious war is!
    You shoot a fellow down
    You'd treat if met where any bar is,
    Or help to half-a-crown.





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