THOMAS Hardy muses on his ignorance of future love and the comfort that that ignorance denied him.

The poem may bring to mind the opening of John Donne's The Good-Morrow ('I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I /Did, till we loved?').

BEFORE KNOWLEDGE

When I walked roseless tracks and wide,

Ere dawned your date for meeting me,

O why did you not cry Halloo

Across the stretch between, and say:

'We move, while years as yet divide,

On closing lines which - though it be

You know me not nor I know you -

Will intersect and join some day!'

Then well I had borne

Each scraping thorn;

But the winters froze,

And grew no rose;

No bridge bestrode

The gap at all;

No shape you showed,

And I heard no call!