A Regret

I planned to live alone and free, In the quiet of a reverie; And little did I think that fate, Would lead me, almost at Heaven’s gate.

For soon I found my mind a maze, Lost in so many passing days, The snowdrops falling, the crocus bloom, All in this dream of a distant room.

The whispers of the trees outside, The brook at hand, it matched my pride; Yet I go unthanked, for beneath this peace, Comes a fault I cannot cease.

So onward pass these golden hours, With skies above and hidden flowers, But deep within, a shadowed sigh, Burns brightly on that quiet lie.

• Thomas Hardy