Literature Network » Thomas Hardy » Moments of Vision » The Rival

The Rival

   I determined to find out whose it was -
   The portrait he looked at so, and sighed;
Bitterly have I rued my meanness
      And wept for it since he died!
   I searched his desk when he was away,
   And there was the likeness--yes, my own!
Taken when I was the season's fairest,
      And time-lines all unknown.
   I smiled at my image, and put it back,
   And he went on cherishing it, until
I was chafed that he loved not the me then living,
      But that past woman still.
   Well, such was my jealousy at last,
   I destroyed that face of the former me;
Could you ever have dreamed the heart of woman
      Would work so foolishly!

Literature Network » Thomas Hardy » Moments of Vision » The Rival