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