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!