Thomas Hardy — The Contretemps

       &nbsp A forward rush by the lamp in the gloom,        &nbsp       &nbsp And we clasped, and almost kissed;        &nbsp But she was not the woman whom        &nbsp I had promised to meet in the thawing brume On that harbour-bridge; nor was I he of her tryst.        &nbsp So loosening from me swift she said:        &nbsp       &nbsp “O why, why feign to be        &nbsp The one I had meant! - to whom I have sped        &nbsp To fly with, being so sorrily wed!” - ’Twas thus and thus that she upbraided me.        &nbsp My assignation had struck upon        &nbsp       &nbsp Some others’ like it, I found.        &nbsp And her lover rose on the night anon;        &nbsp And then her husband entered on The lamplit, snowflaked, sloppiness around.        &nbsp “Take her and welcome, man!” he cried:        &nbsp       &nbsp “I wash my hands of her.        &nbsp I’ll find me twice as good a bride!”        &nbsp - All this to me, whom he had eyed, Plainly, as his wife’s planned deliverer.        &nbsp And next the lover: “Little I knew,        &nbsp       &nbsp Madam, you had a third!        &nbsp Kissing here in my very view!”        &nbsp - Husband and lover then withdrew. I let them; and I told them not they erred.        &nbsp Why not? Well, there faced she and I -        &nbsp       &nbsp Two strangers who’d kissed, or near,        &nbsp Chancewise. To see stand weeping by        &nbsp A woman once embraced, will try The tension of a man the most austere.        &nbsp So it began; and I was young,        &nbsp       &nbsp She pretty, by the lamp,        &nbsp As flakes came waltzing down among        &nbsp The waves of her clinging hair, that hung Heavily on her temples, dark and damp.        &nbsp And there alone still stood we two;        &nbsp       &nbsp She one cast off for me,        &nbsp Or so it seemed: while night ondrew,        &nbsp Forcing a parley what should do We twain hearts caught in one catastrophe.        &nbsp In stranded souls a common strait        &nbsp       &nbsp Wakes latencies unknown,        &nbsp Whose impulse may precipitate        &nbsp A life-long leap. The hour was late, And there was the Jersey boat with its funnel agroan.        &nbsp “Is wary walking worth much pother?”        &nbsp       &nbsp It grunted, as still it stayed.        &nbsp “One pairing is as good as another        &nbsp Where all is venture! Take each other, And scrap the oaths that you have aforetime made.” . . .        &nbsp - Of the four involved there walks but one        &nbsp       &nbsp On earth at this late day.        &nbsp And what of the chapter so begun?        &nbsp In that odd complex what was done?        &nbsp Well; happiness comes in full to none: Let peace lie on lulled lips: I will not say.