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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529601" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Burghers</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THE sun had wheeled from Grey's to Dammer's Crest,<br> And still I mused on that Thing imminent:<br> At length I sought the High-street to the West.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The level flare raked pane and pediment<br> And my wrecked face, and shaped my nearing friend<br> Like one of those the Furnace held unshent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "I've news concerning her," he said. "Attend.<br> They fly to-night at the late moon's first gleam:<br> Watch with thy steel: two righteous thrusts will end</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "Her shameless visions and his passioned dream.<br> I'll watch with thee, to testify thy wrong--<br> To aid, maybe--Law consecrates the scheme."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I started, and we paced the flags along<br> Till I replied: "Since it has come to this<br> I'll do it! But alone. I can be strong."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Three hours past Curfew, when the Froom's mild hiss<br> Reigned sole, undulled by whirr of merchandise,<br> From Pummery-Tout to where the Gibbet is,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I crossed my pleasaunce hard by Glyd'path Rise,<br> And stood beneath the wall. Eleven strokes went,<br> And to the door they came, contrariwise,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And met in clasp so close I had but bent<br> My lifted blade upon them to have let<br> Their two souls loose upon the firmament.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> But something held my arm. "A moment yet<br> As pray-time ere you wantons die!" I said;<br> And then they saw me. Swift her gaze was set</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> With eye and cry of love illimited<br> Upon her Heart-king. Never upon me<br> Had she thrown look of love so thorough-sped!...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> At once she flung her faint form shieldingly<br> On his, against the vengeance of my vows;<br> The which o'erruling, her shape shielded he.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Blanked by such love, I stood as in a drowse,<br> And the slow moon edged from the upland nigh,<br> My sad thoughts moving thuswise: "I may house</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "And I may husband her, yet what am I<br> But licensed tyrant to this bonded pair?<br> Says Charity, Do as ye would be done by."...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Hurling my iron to the bushes there,<br> I bade them stay. And, as if brain and breast<br> Were passive, they walked with me to the stair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Inside the house none watched; and on we prest<br> Before a mirror, in whose gleam I read<br> Her beauty, his,--and mine own mien unblest;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Till at her room I turned. "Madam," I said,<br> "Have you the wherewithal for this? Pray speak.<br> Love fills no cupboard. You'll need daily bread."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "We've nothing, sire," said she, "and nothing seek.<br> 'Twere base in me to rob my lord unware;<br> Our hands will earn a pittance week by week."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And next I saw she'd piled her raiment rare<br> Within the garde-robes, and her household purse,<br> Her jewels, and least lace of personal wear;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And stood in homespun. Now grown wholly hers,<br> I handed her the gold, her jewells all,<br> And him the choicest of her robes diverse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "I'll take you to the doorway in the wall,<br> And then adieu," I to them. "Friends, withdraw."<br> They did so; and she went--beyond recall.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> And as I paused beneath the arch I saw<br> Their moonlit figures--slow, as in surprise--<br> Descend the slope, and vanish on the haw.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> "'Fool,' some will say," I thought. "But who is wise,<br> Save God alone, to weigh my reasons why?"<br> --"Hast thou struck home?" came with the boughs' night-sighs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> It was my friend. "I have struck well. They fly,<br> But carry wounds that none can cicatrize."<br> --"Not mortal?" said he. "Lingering--worse," said I.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=529601" data-title="The Burghers de Thomas Hardy" data-description="THE sun had wheeled from Grey's to Dammer's Crest, And still I mused on that Thing imminent: At length I sought the High-street to the West. The level flare raked pane and pediment And my wrecked face, and shaped my nearing friend Like one o..."></div> </div> </div>
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