Heiress And Architect
For A. W. B.
SHE sought the Studios, beckoning to her side
An arch-designer, for she planned to build.
He was of wise contrivance, deeply skilled
In every intervolve of high and wide--
Well fit to be her guide.
"Whatever it be,"
With cold, clear voice, and cold, clear view,
"In true accord with prudent fashionings
For such vicissitudes as living brings,
And thwarting not the law of stable things,
That will I do."
"Shape me," she said, "high walls with tracery
And open ogive-work, that scent and hue
Of buds, and travelling bees, may come in through,
The note of birds, and singings of the sea,
For these are much to me."
"An idle whim!"
Broke forth from him
Whom nought could warm to gallantries:
"Cede all these buds and birds, the zephyr's call,
And scents, and hues, and things that falter all,
And choose as best the close and surly wall,
For winter's freeze."
"Then frame," she cried, "wide fronts of crystal glass,
That I may show my laughter and my light--
Light like the sun's by day, the stars' by night--
Till rival heart-queens, envying, wail, 'Alas,
Her glory!' as they pass."
"O maid misled!"
He sternly said,
Whose facile foresight pierced her dire;
"Where shall abide the soul when, sick of glee,
It shrinks, and hides, and prays no eye may see?
Those house them best who house for secrecy,
For you will tire."
"A little chamber, then, with swan and dove
Ranged thickly, and engrailed with rare device
Of reds and purples, for a Paradise
Wherein my Love may greet me, I my Love,
When he shall know thereof?"
"This, too, is ill,"
He answered still,
The man who swayed her like a shade.
"An hour will come when sight of such sweet nook
Would bring a bitterness too sharp to brook,
When brighter eyes have won away his look;
For you will fade."
Then said she faintly: "O, contrive some way--
Some narrow winding turret, quite mine own,
To reach a loft where I may grieve alone!
It is a slight thing; hence do not, I pray,
This last dear fancy slay!"
"Such winding ways
Fit not your days,"
Said he, the man of measuring eye;
"I must even fashion as my rule declares,
To wit: Give space (since life ends unawares)
To hale a coffined corpse adown the stairs;
For you will die."
Thomas Hardy's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Heiress And Architect by Thomas Hardy )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
- Best Friend (In Hindi), Tavneet Singh
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Touched by an Angel, Maya Angelou
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- How Do I Love Thee?, Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Poem of the Day
- You is Me, Mapung Madura
- Legendary Nostradamus Prophet, lee fones
- Thomas' Impossible Escape, Susan Wetmore
- Business-like, gajanan mishra
- Why Poetry Is Beautiful, Leong Ming Loong
- Blood Bath, Suresh Dogra
- Her Yes, Suresh Dogra
- Schools place of transformation., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- I love the poet for ever, gajanan mishra
- A Shameless Thief, Chris Zachariou