
Rake-hell muses Thomas Hardy
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Yes; since she knows not need,
  Nor walks in blindness,
I may without unkindness
  A true thing tell:
Which would be truth, indeed,
 Though worse in speaking,
Were her poor footsteps seeking
  A pauper’s cell.
I judge, then, better far
  She now have sorrow,
Than gladness that to-morrow
  Might know its knell. -
It may be men there are
  Could make of union
A lifelong sweet communion -
  A passioned spell;
But I, to save her name
  And bring salvation
By altar-affirmation
  And bridal bell;
I, by whose rash unshame
  These tears come to her:-
My faith would more undo her
  Than my farewell!
  Nor walks in blindness,
I may without unkindness
  A true thing tell:
Which would be truth, indeed,
 Though worse in speaking,
Were her poor footsteps seeking
  A pauper’s cell.
I judge, then, better far
  She now have sorrow,
Than gladness that to-morrow
  Might know its knell. -
It may be men there are
  Could make of union
A lifelong sweet communion -
  A passioned spell;
But I, to save her name
  And bring salvation
By altar-affirmation
  And bridal bell;
I, by whose rash unshame
  These tears come to her:-
My faith would more undo her
  Than my farewell!
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