Bere Regis links to Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) is unique.
He is known today as a poet and novelist, as well as the writer of a number of short stories.
However he started his career as an architect.

His novels and poems are now known and loved throughout the world, yet he was born, grew up and lived most of his long life in a provincial backwater - Dorset!
When he died, he was known for his fatalistic views of life and for being an agnostic; and yet Hardy was quoted as saying that he had once wanted to be a clergyman.
He longed to be educated at one of the great universities; although failing his ambition he is now one of the world's most studied authors
His blend of nostalgic longing for a simpler past, together with a "modern" philosophical view of the world, gives us unique insights into the human condition.
And his sheer longevity in terms of creative output is amazing in itself.
He managed in all more than 70 years of writing novels, short stories, poems and the occasional theatrical exploit. And he was published for more than 50 of those years.
Bere Regis features in several of Hardys novels and he renamed the village Kingsbere, for this purpose.
I have outlined the novels it appears in below...

I wayed by star and planet shine
   Towards the dear one's home
At Kingsbere, there to make her mine
   When the next sun upclomb.

I edged the ancient hill and wood
   Beside the Ikling Way,
Nigh where the Pagan temple stood
   In the world's earlier day.

And as I quick and quicker walked
   On gravel and on green,
I sang to sky, and tree, or talked
   Of her I called my queen.

"O faultless is her dainty form,
   And luminous her mind;
She is the God-created norm
   Of perfect womankind!"

A shape whereon one star-blink gleamed
   Glode softly by my side,
A woman's; and her motion seemed
   The motion of my bride.

And yet methought she'd drawn erstwhile
   Adown the ancient leaze,
Where once were pile and peristyle
   For men's idolatries.

"O maiden lithe and lone, what may
   Thy name and lineage be,
Who so resemblest by this ray
   My darling?--Art thou she?"

The Shape: "Thy bride remains within
   Her father's grange and grove."
"Thou speakest rightly," I broke in,
   "Thou art not she I love."

"Nay: though thy bride remains inside
   Her father's walls," said she,
"The one most dear is with thee here,
   For thou dost love but me."

Then I: "But she, my only choice,
   Is now at Kingsbere Grove?"
Again her soft mysterious voice:
   "I am thy only Love."

Thus still she vouched, and still I said,
   "O sprite, that cannot be!" . . .
It was as if my bosom bled,
   So much she troubled me.

The sprite resumed: "Thou hast transferred
   To her dull form awhile
My beauty, fame, and deed, and word,
   My gestures and my smile.

"O fatuous man, this truth infer,
   Brides are not what they seem;
Thou lovest what thou dreamest her;
   I am thy very dream!"

"O then," I answered miserably,
   Speaking as scarce I knew,
"My loved one, I must wed with thee
   If what thou say'st be true!"

She, proudly, thinning in the gloom:
   "Though, since troth-plight began,
I've ever stood as bride to groom,
   I wed no mortal man!"

Thereat she vanished by the Cross
   That, entering Kingsbere town,
The two long lanes form, near the fosse
   Below the faneless Down.

When I arrived and met my bride,
   Her look was pinched and thin,
As if her soul had shrunk and died,
   And left a waste within.

To find out more about Thomas Hardy & his work, have a look at the Thomas Hardy Website