Page:Wessex poems and other verses (IA wessexpoemsother00hard).pdf/41



HOUGH I waste watches framing words to fetter Some spirit to mine own in clasp and kiss, Out of the night there looms a sense 'twere better To fail obtaining whom one fails to miss.

For winning love we win the risk of losing, And losing love is as one's life were riven; It cuts like contumely and keen ill-using To cede what was superfluously given.