Rake-hell muses Thomas Hardy

Yes; since she knows not need,
       &nbsp Nor walks in blindness,
I may without unkindness
       &nbsp A true thing tell:

Which would be truth, indeed,
       &nbspThough worse in speaking,
Were her poor footsteps seeking
       &nbsp A pauper’s cell.

I judge, then, better far
       &nbsp She now have sorrow,
Than gladness that to-morrow
       &nbsp Might know its knell. -

It may be men there are
       &nbsp Could make of union
A lifelong sweet communion -
       &nbsp A passioned spell;

But I, to save her name
       &nbsp And bring salvation
By altar-affirmation
       &nbsp And bridal bell;

I, by whose rash unshame
       &nbsp These tears come to her:-
My faith would more undo her
       &nbsp Than my farewell!