thomas hardy - faintheart in a railway train

At nine in the morning there passed a church

At then there passed me by the sea,

At twelve a town of smoke and smirch,

At two a forest of oak and birch,

And then, on a platform she:

 

A radiant stranger, who saw not me.

I said, 'Get out to her do I dare?'

But I kept my seat in my search for a plea,

And the wheels moved on. O could it but be

That I had alighted there!