A Poor Man and a Lady

We knew it was not a valid thing,
And only sanct in the sight of God
(To use your phrase), as with fervent nod
You swore your assent when I placed the ring
On your pale slim hand. Our whispering
Was soft as the fan of a turtledove
That round our heads might have seemed to wing;
So solemn were we; so sincere our love.

We could do no better; and thus it stood
Through a time of timorous secret bliss,
Till we were divided, and never a kiss
Of mine could touch you, or likelihood
Illumed our sky that we might, or should
Be each to each in the world’s wide eye
What we were unviewed; and our vows make good
In the presence of parents and standers by.

I was a striver with deeds to do,
And little enough to do them with,
And a comely woman of noble kith,
With a courtly match to make, were you;
And we both were young; and though sterling-true
You had proved to our pledge under previous strains,
Our “union,” as we called it, grew
Less grave to your eyes in your town campaigns.

Well: the woeful neared, you needn’t be told:
The current news-sheets clarioned soon
That you would be wived on a summer noon
By a man of illustrious line and old:
Nor better nor worse than the manifold
Of marriages made, had there not been
Our faith-swearing when fervent-souled,
Which, to me, seemed a breachless bar between.

We met in a Mayfair church, alone:
(The request was mine, which you yielded to.)
“But we were not married at all!” urged you:
“Why, of course we were!” I I said. Your tone..
I noted, was world-wise. You went on:
“’Twas sweet while it lasted. But you well know
That law is law. He’ll be, anon,
My husband really. You, Dear, weren’t so.”

“I wished — but to learn if —” faltered I,
And stopped. “But I’ll sting you not. Farewell!”
And we parted. — Do you recall the bell
That tolled by chance as we said good-bye?...
I saw you no more. The track of a high,
Sweet, liberal lady you’ve doubtless trod. —
All’s past! No heart was burst thereby,
And no one knew, unless it was God.