The rival 

    I determined to find out whose it was - 

    The portrait he looked at so, and sighed; 

Bitterly have I rued my meanness

            And wept for it since he died!

    I searched his desk when he was away,

    And there was the likeness - yes, my own! 

Taken when I was the season's fairest, 

            And time-lines all unknown. 

        I smiled at my image, and put it back,

        And he went on cherishing it, until

I was chafed that he loved not the me then living,

            But the past woman still.

        Well, such was my jealousy at las

        I destroyed that face of former me ; 

Could you ever have dreamed the heart of a woman 

            Would work so foolishly! 

Thomas Hardy - Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous Verses