Skip to content
1840–1928

AT THE PIANO

Thomas Hardy

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.

Cookies on Poetry Cove

We use cookies to remember your language preference and — only with your consent — to learn how Poetry Cove is used. You can change your mind any time.
AT THE PIANO · Thomas Hardy · Poetry Cove