'At the Piano' - poem by 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. Thomas Hardy: Behind the Mask  [Explaining the Poems] http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/22327