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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529433" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Woman's Fancy</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Ah Madam; you've indeed come back here?<br>'Twas sad-your husband's so swift death,<br>And you away! You shouldn't have left him:<br>It hastened his last breath.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Dame, I am not the lady you think me;<br>I know not her, nor know her name;<br>I've come to lodge here-a friendless woman;<br>My health my only aim.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She came; she lodged. Wherever she rambled<br>They held her as no other than<br>The lady named; and told how her husband<br>Had died a forsaken man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So often did they call her thuswise<br>Mistakenly, by that man's name,<br>So much did they declare about him,<br>That his past form and fame</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grew on her, till she pitied his sorrow<br>As if she truly had been the cause-<br>Yea, his deserter; and came to wonder<br>What mould of man he was.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Tell me my history!' would exclaim she;<br>'OUR history,' she said mournfully.<br>'But YOU know, surely, Ma'am?' they would answer,<br>Much in perplexity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Curious, she crept to his grave one evening,<br>And a second time in the dusk of the morrow;<br>Then a third time, with crescent emotion<br>Like a bereaved wife's sorrow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No gravestone rose by the rounded hillock;<br>-'I marvel why this is?' she said.<br>- 'He had no kindred, Ma'am, but you near.'<br>-She set a stone at his head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She learnt to dream of him, and told them:<br>'In slumber often uprises he,<br>And says: 'I am joyed that, after all, Dear,<br>You've not deserted me!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At length died too this kinless woman,<br>As he had died she had grown to crave;<br>And at her dying she besought them<br>To bury her in his grave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Such said, she had paused; until she added:<br>'Call me by his name on the stone,<br>As I were, first to last, his dearest,<br>Not she who left him lone!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And this they did. And so it became there<br>That, by the strength of a tender whim,<br>The stranger was she who bore his name there,<br>Not she who wedded him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Hardy">Thomas Hardy</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529433" data-title="A Woman's Fancy de Thomas Hardy" data-description="'Ah Madam; you've indeed come back here?
'Twas sad-your husband's so swift death,
And you away! You shouldn't have left him:
It hastened his last breath.'

'Dame, I am not the lady you think me;
I know not her, nor know her name;
I've come to lodg..."></div>
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