Thomas Hardy - Dream of the City Shopwoman lyrics

'Twere sweet to have a comrade here, Who'd vow to love this garreteer, By city people's snap and sneer    Tried oft and hard! We'd rove a truant co*k and hen To some snug solitary glen, And never be seen to haunt again    This teeming yard. Within a cot of thatch and clay We'd list the flitting pipers play, Our lives a twine of good and gay    Enwreathed discreetly; Our blithest deeds so neighbouring wise That doves should coo in soft surprise, “These must belong to Paradise    Who live so sweetly.” Our clock should be the closing flowers, Our sprinkle-bath the pa**ing showers, Our church the alleyed willow bowers,    The truth our theme; And infant shapes might soon abound: Their shining heads would dot us round Like mushroom balls on gra**y ground . . .    - But all is dream! O God, that creatures framed to feel A yearning nature's strong appeal Should writhe on this eternal wheel    In rayless grime; And vainly note, with wan regret, Each star of early promise set; Till d**h relieves, and they forget    Their one Life's time!