Thomas Hardy (Òîìàñ Õàðäè)

At the Piano

A woman was playing,
A man looking on;
And the mould of her face,
And her neck, and her hair,
Which the rays fell upon
Of the two candles there,
Sent him mentally straying
In some fancy-place
Where pain had no trace.

A cowled Apparition
Came pushing between;
And her notes seemed to sigh;
And the lights to burn pale,
As a spell numbed the scene.
But the maid saw no bale,
And the man no monition;
And Time laughed awry,
And the Phantom hid nigh.

1. For Life I Had Never Cared Greatly
2. On the Belgian Expatriation
3. An Appeal to America on Behalf of the Belgian Destitute
4. Men Who March Away
5. In Time of Wars and Tumults

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