| Thomas Hardy (1840–1928). Wessex Poems and Other Verses. 1898. |
| |
| 11. Her Dilemma |
| |
| |
| THE TWO were silent in a sunless church, | |
| Whose mildewed walls, uneven paving-stones, | |
| And wasted carvings passed antique research; | |
| And nothing broke the clock’s dull monotones. | |
| |
| Leaning against a wormy poppy-head, | 5 |
| So wan and worn that he could scarcely stand, | |
| —For he was soon to die,—he softly said, | |
| “Tell me you love me!”—holding hard her hand. | |
| |
| She would have given a world to breathe “yes” truly, | |
| So much his life seemed hanging on her mind, | 10 |
| And hence she lied, her heart persuaded throughly, | |
| ’Twas worth her soul to be a moment kind. | |
| |
| But the sad need thereof, his nearing death, | |
| So mocked humanity that she shamed to prize | |
| A world conditioned thus, or care for breath | 15 |
Where Nature such dilemmas could devise.
1866. | |
| |
|
|
|
