THOUGH I waste watches framing words to fetter <br /> Some spirit to mine own in clasp and kiss, <br /> Out of the night there looms a sense 'twere better <br /> To fail obtaining whom one fails to miss. <br /> <br /> For winning love we win the risk of losing, <br /> And losing love is as one's life were riven; <br /> It cuts like contumely and keen ill-using <br /> To cede what was superfluously given. <br /> <br /> Let me then feel no more the fateful thrilling <br /> That devastates the love-worn wooer's frame, <br /> The hot ado of fevered hopes, the chilling <br /> That agonizes disappointed aim! <br /> So may I live no junctive law fulfilling, <br /> And my heart's table bear no woman's name.<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/revulsion/
