The Well-Beloved Thomas Hardy

I wayed by star and planet shine
        Towards the dear one's home
At Kingsbere, there to make her mine
        When the next sun upclomb.

I edged the ancient hill and wood
        Beside the Ikling Way,
Nigh where the Pagan temple stood
        In the world's earlier day.

And as I quick and quicker walked
        On gravel and on green,
I sang to sky, and tree, or talked
        Of her I called my queen.

- "O faultless is her dainty form,
        And luminous her mind;
She is the God-created norm
        Of perfect womankind!"

A shape whereon one star-blink gleamed
        Glode softly by my side,
A woman's; and her motion seemed
        The motion of my bride.

And yet methought she'd drawn erstwhile
        Adown the ancient leaze,
Where once were pile and peristyle
        For men's idolatries.