Thomas Hardy - Her Father lyrics

I met her, as we had privily planned, Where pa**ing feet beat busily: She whispered: "Father is at hand!   He wished to walk with me." His presence as he joined us there Banished our words of warmth away; We felt, with cloudings of despair,   What Love must lose that day. Her crimson lips remained unkissed, Our fingers kept no tender hold, His lack of feeling made the tryst   Embarra**ed, stiff, and cold. A cynic ghost then rose and said, "But is his love for her so small That, nigh to yours, it may be read   As of no worth at all? "You love her for her pink and white; But what when their fresh splendours close? His love will last her in despite   Of Time, and wrack, and foes."