Treasure Island

Thomas Hardy

(2 June 1840 – 11 January 1928 / Dorchester / England)

I Was Not He


I was not he-the man
Who used to pilgrim to your gate,
At whose smart step you grew elate,
And rosed, as maidens can,
For a brief span.

It was not I who sang
Beside the keys you touched so true
With note-bent eyes, as if with you
It counted not whence sprang
The voice that rang . . .

Yet though my destiny
It was to miss your early sweet,
You still, when turned to you my feet,
Had sweet enough to be
A prize for me!

Submitted: Saturday, April 10, 2010

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