Here is the ancient floor, <br />Footworn and hollowed and thin, <br />Here was the former door <br />Where the dead feet walked in. <br /> <br />She sat here in her chair, <br />Smiling into the fire; <br />He who played stood there, <br />Bowing it higher and higher. <br /> <br />Childlike, I danced in a dream; <br />Blessings emblazoned that day; <br />Everything glowed with a gleam; <br />Yet we were looking away!<br /><br />Thomas Hardy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-self-unseeing/
