Poem by Thomas Hardy

Shut out that Moon

Close up the casement, draw the blind,
     Shut out that stealing moon,
She wears too much the guise she wore
     Before our lutes were strewn
With years-deep dust, and names we read
     On a white stone were hewn.

Step not forth on the dew-dashed lawn
     To view the Lady’s Chair,
Immense Orion’s glittering form,
     The Less and Greater Bear:
Stay in; to such sights we were drawn
     When faded ones were fair.

Brush not the bough for midnight scents
     That come forth lingeringly,
And wake the same sweet sentiments
     They breathed to you and me
When living seemed a laugh, and love
     All it was said to be.

Within the common lamp-lit room
     Prison my eyes and thought;
Let dingy details crudely loom,
     Mechanic speech be wrought:
Too fragrant was Life’s early bloom,
     Too tart the fruit it brought!

1. An Expostulation
2. Her Love-Birds
3. The Collector Cleans His Picture
4. The Aërolite
5. The Harvest-Supper

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