Poem by Thomas Hardy

Seen by the Waits

Through snowy woods and shady
We went to play a tune
To the lonely manor-lady
By the light of the Christmas moon.

We violed till, upward glancing
To where a mirror leaned,
We saw her airily dancing,
Deeming her movements screened;

Dancing alone in the room there,
Thin-draped in her robe of night;
Her postures, glassed in the gloom there,
Were a strange phantasmal sight.

She had learnt (we heard when homing)
That her roving spouse was dead;
Why she had danced in the gloaming
We thought, but never said. 

1. To Carrey Clavel
2. O I Won’t Lead a Homely Life
3. When Dead
4. The Fight on Durnover Moor
5. The Aërolite

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