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 out 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!