I was not he-the man <br />Who used to pilgrim to your gate, <br />At whose smart step you grew elate, <br />And rosed, as maidens can, <br />For a brief span. <br /> <br />It was not I who sang <br />Beside the keys you touched so true <br />With note-bent eyes, as if with you <br />It counted not whence sprang <br />The voice that rang . . . <br /> <br />Yet though my destiny <br />It was to miss your early sweet, <br />You still, when turned to you my feet, <br />Had sweet enough to be <br />A prize for me!<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-was-not-he/
