At a Country Fair
At
a bygone Western country fair
I
saw a giant led by a dwarf
With
a red string like a long thin scarf;
How
much he was the stronger there
The
giant seemed unaware.
And
then I saw that the giant was blind,
And
the dwarf a shrewd-eyed little thing;
The
giant, mild, timid, obeyed the string
As
if he had no independent mind,
Or
will of any kind.
Wherever
the dwarf decided to go
At
his heels the other trotted meekly,
(Perhaps—I
know not—reproaching weakly)
Like
one Fate bade that it must be so,
Whether
he wished or no.
Various
sights in various climes
I
have seen, and more I may see yet,
But
that sight never shall I forget,
And
have thought it the sorriest of pantomimes,
If
once, a hundred times!
Thomas
Hardy
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