Revulsion

Revulsion by Thomas Hardy

Winning love we win the risk of losing,

and losing love is as one's life were riven;

It cuts to cede what was superfluously given.

Let me then never feel the fateful thrilling

that devastates the love-worn wooer's frame,

the hot ado of fevered hopes,

the chilling that agonizes disappointed aim.

and my heart's table bear no woman's name.