THE FALLOW DEER AT THE LONELY HOUSE

One without looks in to-night
…Through the curtain-chink
From the sheet of glistening white,
One without looks in to-night
…As we sit and think
…By the fender-brink.

We do not discern those eyes
…Watching in the snow,
Lit by lamps of rosy dyes
We do not discern those eyes
…Wondering, aglow,
…Fourfooted, tiptoe.

-Thomas Hardy