Her Death And After

'TWAS a death-bed summons, and forth I went
  By the way of the Western Wall, so drear
  On that winter night, and sought a gate--
  The home, by Fate,
  Of one I had long held dear.

  And there, as I paused by her tenement,
  And the trees shed on me their rime and hoar,
  I thought of the man who had left her lone--
  Him who made her his own
  When I loved her, long before.

  The rooms within had the piteous shine
  The home-things wear which the housewife miss;
  From the stairway floated the rise and fall
  Of an infant's call,
  Whose birth had brought her to this.

  Her life was the price she would pay for that whine--
  For a child by the man she did not love.
  "But let that rest forever," I said,
  And bent my tread
  To the chamber up above.

  She took my hand in her thin white own,
  And smiled her thanks--though nigh too weak--
  And made them a sign to leave us there;
  Then faltered, ere
  She could bring herself to speak.

  "'Twas to see you before I go--he'll condone
  Such a natural thing now my time's not much--
  When Death is so near it hustles hence
  All passioned sense
  Between woman and man as such!

  "My husband is absent. As heretofore
  The City detains him. But, in truth,
  He has not been kind.... I will speak no blame,
  But--the child is lame;
  O, I pray she may reach his ruth!

  "Forgive past days--I can say no more--
  Maybe if we'd wedded you'd now repine!...
  But I treated you ill. I was punished. Farewell!
  --Truth shall I tell?
  Would the child were yours and mine!

  "As a wife I was true. But, such my unease
  That, could I insert a deed back in Time,
  I'd make her yours, to secure your care;
  And the scandal bear,
  And the penalty for the crime!"

  --When I had left, and the swinging trees
  Rang above me, as lauding her candid say,
  Another was I. Her words were enough:
  Came smooth, came rough,
  I felt I could live my day.

  Next night she died; and her obsequies
  In the Field of Tombs, by the Via renowned,
  Had her husband's heed. His tendance spent,
  I often went
  And pondered by her mound.

  All that year and the next year whiled,
  And I still went thitherward in the gloam;
  But the Town forgot her and her nook,
  And her husband took
  Another Love to his home.

  And the rumor flew that the lame lone child
  Whom she wished for its safety child of mine,
  Was treated ill when offspring came
  Of the new-made dame,
  And marked a more vigorous line.

  A smarter grief within me wrought
  Than even at loss of her so dear;
  Dead the being whose soul my soul suffused,
  Her child ill-used,
  I helpless to interfere!

  One eve as I stood at my spot of thought
  In the white-stoned Garth, brooding thus her wrong,
  Her husband neared; and to shun his view
  By her hallowed mew
  I went from the tombs among

  To the Cirque of the Gladiators which faced--
  That haggard mark of Imperial Rome,
  Whose Pagan echoes mock the chime
  Of our Christian time:
  It was void, and I inward clomb.

  Scarce had night the sun's gold touch displaced
  From the vast Rotund and the neighboring dead
  When her husband followed; bowed; half-passed,
  With lip upcast;
  Then, halting, sullenly said:

  "It is noised that you visit my first wife's tomb.
  Now, I gave her an honored name to bear
  While living, when dead. So I've claim to ask
  By what right you task
  My patience by vigiling there?

  "There's decency even in death, I assume;
  Preserve it, sir, and keep away;
  For the mother of my first-born you
  Show mind undue!
  --Sir, I've nothing more to say."

  A desperate stroke discerned I then--
  God pardon--or pardon not--the lie;
  She had sighed that she wished (lest the child should pine
  Of slights) 'twere mine,
  So I said: "But the father I.

  "That you thought it yours is the way of men;
  But I won her troth long ere your day:
  You learnt how, in dying, she
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Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy, was a Scottish Minister, Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland and Professor of Eccesiastical History at Edinburgh University. more…

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"Her Death And After" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 23 Feb. 2020. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/36381/her-death-and-after>.

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