The Contretemps Thomas Hardy

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       &nbsp A forward rush by the lamp in the gloom,
       &nbsp       &nbsp      And we clasped, and almost kissed;
       &nbsp   But she was not the woman whom
       &nbsp   I had promised to meet in the thawing brume
On that harbour-bridge; nor was I he of her tryst.
       &nbsp  So loosening from me swift she said:
       &nbsp       &nbsp      “O why, why feign to be
       &nbsp   The one I had meant! - to whom I have sped
       &nbsp   To fly with, being so sorrily wed!”
- ’Twas thus and thus that she upbraided me.
       &nbsp   My assignation had struck upon
       &nbsp       &nbsp      Some others’ like it, I found.
       &nbsp   And her lover rose on the night anon;
       &nbsp   And then her husband entered on
The lamplit, snowflaked, sloppiness around.
       &nbsp   “Take her and welcome, man!” he cried:
       &nbsp       &nbsp      “I wash my hands of her.
       &nbsp   I’ll find me twice as good a bride!”
       &nbsp   - All this to me, whom he had eyed,
Plainly, as his wife’s planned deliverer.
       &nbsp   And next the lover: “Little I knew,
       &nbsp       &nbsp      Madam, you had a third!
       &nbsp   Kissing here in my very view!”
       &nbsp   - Husband and lover then withdrew.
I let them; and I told them not they erred.