In Sherborne Abbey
The moon has passed to the panes of the south-isle wall,
And brought the mulliond shades and shines to fall
On the cheeks of a women and man in a pew there, pressed
Together as they pant, and recline for rest.
Forms around there loom, recumbent like their own,
Yet differing; for they are chiselled in frigid stone;
In doublets are some; some mailed, as whilom ahorse they leapt;
And stately husbands and wives, side by side as they anciently slept.
" We are not like those," she murmurs. "For ever here set!"
" True love," he replies. " We two are not marble yet."
" And worse," said she; "not husband and wife!"
" But we soon shall be" (from him) "if we've life!"
A silence. A trotting of horses is heard without.
The lovers scarce breathe till its echo had quite died out.
" It was they! They have passed anyhow!"
" Our horse slily hid by the conduit,
They've missed, or they'd rushed to impound it!"
" And they'll not discover us now."
" Will not, until 'tis too late
And we can outface them straight!"
" Why did you make me ride in your front?" says she
" To outwit the law. That was my strategy.
By Thomas Hardy