I WILL be faithful to thee; aye, I will! <br /> And Death shall choose me with a wondering eye <br /> That he did not discern and domicile <br /> One his by right ever since that last Good-bye! <br /> <br /> I have no care for friends, or kin, or prime <br /> Of manhood who deal gently with me here; <br /> Amid the happy people of my time <br /> Who work their love's fulfilment, I appear <br /> <br /> Numb as a vane that cankers on its point, <br /> True to the wind that kissed ere canker came; <br /> Despised by souls of Now, who would disjoint <br /> The mind from memory, and make Life all aim, <br /> <br /> My old dexterities of hue quite gone, <br /> And nothing left for Love to look upon.<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-to-him-iii-2/
