Explore "Her Father" by Thomas Hardy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I MET her, as we had privily planned, / Where passing feet beat busily: / She whispered: "Father is at hand! / He wished to walk with me."
His presence as he joined us there / Banished our words of warmth away; / We felt, with cloudings of despair, / What Love must lose that day.
Her crimson lips remained unkissed, / Our fingers kept no tender hold, / His lack of feeling made the tryst / Embarrassed, stiff, and cold.
A cynic ghost then rose and said, / "But is his love for her so small / That, nigh to yours, it may be read / As of no worth at all?
"You love her for her pink and white; / But what when their fresh splendours close? / His love will last her in despite / Of Time, and wrack, and foes. "