How I was caught <br />Hieing home, after days of allure, <br />And driven to an inn—small, obscure— <br />At the junction, fret-fraught! <br /> <br />How civil my face <br />To get them to chamber me there— <br />A roof I had passed scarce aware <br />That it stood at the place. <br /> <br />And how all the night <br />I had dreams of the unwitting cause <br />Of my lodgment. How lonely I was; <br />How consoled by her sprite! <br /> <br />Thus onetime to me <br />Dim wastes of dead years bar away <br />Then from now! But the like haps to-day <br />To young lovers, may be. <br /> <br />Years, years as gray seas, <br />Truly, stretch now between! Less and less <br />Shrink the visions then great in me.—Yes, <br />Then in me. Now in these.<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-missed-train/
