This love puts all humanity from me; <br />I can but maledict her, pray her dead, <br />For giving love and getting love of thee— <br />Feeding a heart that else mine own had fed! <br /> <br />How much I love I know not, life not known, <br />Save as some unit I would add love by; <br />But this I know, my being is but thine own— <br />Fused from its separateness by ecstasy. <br /> <br />And thus I grasp thy amplitudes, of her <br />Ungrasped, though helped by nigh-regarding eyes; <br />Canst thou then hate me as an envier <br />Who see unrecked what I so dearly prize? <br />Believe me, Lost One, Love is lovelier <br />The more it shapes its moans in selfish-wise.<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-to-him-iv-2/
