The Poetry Corner

The End Of The Episode

By Thomas Hardy

Indulge no more may we In this sweet-bitter pastime: The love-light shines the last time Between you, Dear, and me. There shall remain no trace Of what so closely tied us, And blank as ere love eyed us Will be our meeting-place. The flowers and thymy air, Will they now miss our coming? The dumbles thin their humming To find we haunt not there? Though fervent was our vow, Though ruddily ran our pleasure, Bliss has fulfilled its measure, And sees its sentence now. Ache deep; but make no moans: Smile out; but stilly suffer: The paths of love are rougher Than thoroughfares of stones.