Read this poem, and then answer the question that follows it: No Buyers A STREET SCENE A load of brushes and baskets and cradles and chairs Labours along the street in the rain: With it a man, a woman, a pony with whiteybrown hairs. – The man foots in front of the horse with a shambling sway At a slower tread than a funeral train, While to a dirge-like tune he chants his wares, Swinging a Turk’s-head brush (in a drum-major’s way When the bandsmen march and play). A yard from the back of the man is the whiteybrown pony’s nose: He mirrors his master in every item of pace and pose: He stops when the man stops, without being told, And seems to be eased by a pause; too plainly he’s old, Indeed, not strength enough shows To steer the disjointed waggon straight, Which wriggles left and right in a rambling line, Deflected thus by its own warp and weight, And pushing the pony with it in each incline. The woman walks on the pavement verge, Parallel to the man: She wears an apron white and wide in span, And carries a like Turk’s-head, but more in nursing-wise: Now and then she joins in his dirge, But as if her thoughts were on distant things. The rain clams her apron till it clings. So, step by step, they move with their merchandize, And nobody buys. Explore the ways in which Hardy creates such a sad picture in No Buyers: A Street Scene.