A Man

(IN MEMORY OF H. OF M.) I     In Casterbridge there stood a noble pile,     Wrought with pilaster, bay, and balustrade     In tactful times when shrewd Eliza swayed. -      On burgher, squire, and clown     It smiled the long street down for near a mile II     But evil days beset that domicile;     The stately beauties of its roof and wall     Passed into sordid hands. Condemned to fall      Were cornice, quoin, and cove,     And all that art had wove in antique style. III     Among the hired dismantlers entered there     One till the moment of his task untold.     When charged therewith he gazed, and answered bold:      "Be needy I or no,     I will not help lay low a house so fair! IV     "Hunger is hard. But since the terms be such -     No wage, or labour stained with the disgrace     Of wrecking what our age cannot replace      To save its tasteless soul -     I'll do without your dole. Life is not much! V     Dismissed with sneers he backed his tools and went,     And wandered workless; for it seemed unwise     To close with one who dared to criticize      And carp on points of taste:     To work where they were placed rude men were meant. VI     Years whiled. He aged, sank, sickened, and was not:     And it was said, "A man intractable     And curst is gone." None sighed to hear his knell,      None sought his churchyard-place;     His name, his rugged face, were soon forgot. VII     The stones of that fair hall lie far and wide,     And but a few recall its ancient mould;     Yet when I pass the spot I long to hold      As truth what fancy saith:     "His protest lives where deathless things abide!"