Page:Wessex poems and other verses (IA wessexpoemsother00hard).pdf/115

 When Death is so near it hustles hence All passioned sense Between woman and man as such!

"My husband is absent. As heretofore The City detains him. But, in truth, He has not been kind. . . . I will speak no blame, But—the child is lame; O, I pray she may reach his ruth!

"Forgive past days—I can say no more— Maybe if we'd wedded you'd now repine! . . . But I treated you ill. I was punished. Farewell! —Truth shall I tell? Would the child were yours and mine!

"As a wife I was true. But, such my unease That, could I insert a deed back in Time, I'd make her yours, to secure your care; And the scandal bear, And the penalty for the crime!"