Are you digging on my grave?

Is it this 42-line poem of Thomas Hardy an Ode or an Open form? I guess it is an ode because of its elevated tone and stanzaic structure: It consists of seven sixains most of them iambic tetrameters and some of them in iambic trimeters.

It is only 36 lines, in the form of dialogue?
http://www.online-literature.com/hardy/909/

"Ah, are you digging on my grave,
My loved one? -- planting rue?"
-- "No: yesterday he went to wed
One of the brightest wealth has bred.
'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,
'That I should not be true.'"

"Then who is digging on my grave,
My nearest dearest kin?"
-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!
What good will planting flowers produce?
No tendance of her mound can loose
Her spirit from Death's gin.'"

"But someone digs upon my grave?
My enemy? -- prodding sly?"
-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the Gate
That shuts on all flesh soon or late,
She thought you no more worth her hate,
And cares not where you lie.

"Then, who is digging on my grave?
Say -- since I have not guessed!"
-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,
Your little dog , who still lives near,
And much I hope my movements here
Have not disturbed your rest?"

"Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...
Why flashed it not to me
That one true heart was left behind!
What feeling do we ever find
To equal among human kind
A dog's fidelity!"

"Mistress, I dug upon your grave
To bury a bone, in case
I should be hungry near this spot
When passing on my daily trot.
I am sorry, but I quite forgot
It was your resting place."


--

Oh thanks for posting that Logos. I had not read that in a long time. I enjoyed it. :) For some reason I can see my dog Brandi doing that on my grave. :lol:

A quick search and it seems it's one of his more infamous poems :) The form of dialogue well contrasts the grim irony and black humour of (life and death) a woman buried and forgotten by her husband who's re-married, but extremely useful to the dog, no Victorian romanticisation here :p

It is said to be modeled after A. E. Housman's "Is My Team Plowing?"

"Is my team ploughing,
That I was used to drive
And hear the harness jingle
When I was man alive?"

Ay, the horses trample,
The harness jingles now;
No change though you lie under
The land you used to plough.

"Is football playing
Along the river shore,
With lads to chase the leather,
Now I stand up no more?"

Ay, the ball is flying,
The lads play heart and soul;
The goal stands up, the keeper
Stands up to keep the goal.

"Is my girl happy,
That I thought hard to leave,
And has she tired of weeping
As she lies down at eve?"

Ay, she lies down lightly,
She lies not down to weep,
Your girl is well contented.
Be still, my lad, and sleep.

"Is my friend hearty,
Now I am thin and pine,
And has he found to sleep in
A better bed than mine?"

Yes, lad, I lie easy,
I lie as lads would choose;
I cheer a dead man's sweetheart,
Never ask me whose.

--

Well, I think The poet (Thomas Hardy) is also ironic with himself as this woman could be his own first wife (Emma) whose death he regretted so much and specially after marrying his second and much younger wife Florence. It is well known that although he estranged from his wife, not long after their marriage, her death caused him a permanent psychological trauma. could he be possibly "punishing" himself for the way he abandoned her?