Thomas Hardy — The Inconsistent

I say, "She was as good as fair,"          When standing by her mound; "Such passing sweetness," I declare,         "No longer treads the ground." I say, "What living Love can catch         Her bloom and bonhomie, And what in newer maidens match          Her olden warmth to me!" - There stands within yon vestry-nook          Where bonded lovers sign, Her name upon a faded book          With one that is not mine. To him she breathed the tender vow         She once had breathed to me, But yet I say, "O love, even now         Would I had died for thee!"