By Mellstock Lodge And Avenue Towards Her Door I Went, And Sunset On Her Window-Panes Reflected Our Intent. The Creeper On The Gable Nigh Was Fired To More Than Red And When I Came To Halt Thereby "Bright As My Joy!" I Said. Of Late Days It Had Been Her Aim To Meet Me In The Hall; Now At My Footsteps No One Came; And No One To My Call. Again I Knocked; And Tardily An Inner Step Was Heard, And I Was Shown Her Presence Then With Scarce An Answering Word. She Met Me, And But Barely Took My Proffered Warm Embrace; Preoccupation Weighed Her Look, And Hardened Her Sweet Face. "To-Morrow - Could You - Would You Call? Make Brief Your Present Stay? My Child Is Ill - My One, My All! - And Can't Be Left To-Day." And Then She Turns, And Gives Commands As I Were Out Of Sound, Or Were No More To Her And Hers Than Any Neighbour Round . . . - As Maid I Wooed Her; But One Came And Coaxed Her Heart Away, And When In Time He Wedded Her I Deemed Her Gone For Aye. He Won, I Lost Her; And My Loss I Bore I Know Not How; But I Do Think I Suffered Then Less Wretchedness Than Now. For Time, In Taking Him, Had Oped An Unexpected Door Of Bliss For Me, Which Grew To Seem Far Surer Than Before . . . Her Word Is Steadfast, And I Know That Plighted Firm Are We: But She Has Caught New Love-Calls Since She Smiled As Maid On Me!