Thomas Hardy — Rake-hell muses

Yes; since she knows not need,        &nbsp Nor walks in blindness, I may without unkindness        &nbsp A true thing tell: Which would be truth, indeed,        &nbspThough worse in speaking, Were her poor footsteps seeking        &nbsp A pauper’s cell. I judge, then, better far        &nbsp She now have sorrow, Than gladness that to-morrow        &nbsp Might know its knell. - It may be men there are        &nbsp Could make of union A lifelong sweet communion -        &nbsp A passioned spell; But I, to save her name        &nbsp And bring salvation By altar-affirmation        &nbsp And bridal bell; I, by whose rash unshame        &nbsp These tears come to her:- My faith would more undo her        &nbsp Than my farewell! Chained to me, year by year        &nbsp My moody madness Would wither her old gladness        &nbsp Like famine fell. She’ll take the ill that’s near,        &nbsp And bear the blaming. ‘Twill pass. Full soon her shaming        &nbsp They’ll cease to yell. Our unborn, first her moan,        &nbsp Will grow her guerdon, Until from blot and burden        &nbsp A joyance swell; In that therein she’ll own        &nbsp My good part wholly, My evil staining solely        &nbsp My own vile vell. Of the disgrace, may be        &nbsp “He shunned to share it, Being false,” they’ll say. I’ll bear it;        &nbsp Time will dispel The calumny, and prove        &nbsp This much about me, That she lives best without me        &nbsp Who would live well. That, this once, not self-love        &nbsp But good intention Pleads that against convention        &nbsp We two rebel. For, is one moonlight dance,        &nbsp One midnight passion, A rock whereon to fashion        &nbsp Life’s citadel? Prove they their power to prance        &nbsp Life’s miles together From upper slope to nether        &nbsp Who trip an ell? - Years hence, or now apace,        &nbsp May tongues be calling News of my further falling        &nbsp Sinward pell-mell: Then this great good will grace        &nbspOur lives’ division, She’s saved from more misprision        &nbsp Though I plumb hell.