Thomas Hardy — He Prefers Her Earthly

This after-sunset is a sight for seeing, Cliff-heads of craggy cloud surrounding it.    —And dwell you in that glory-show? You may; for there are strange strange things in being,         Stranger than I know. Yet if that chasm of splendour claim your presence Which glows between the ash cloud and the dun,    How changed must be your mortal mould! Changed to a firmament-riding earthless essence         From what you were of old: All too unlike the fond and fragile creature Then known to me . . . Well, shall I say it plain?    I would not have you thus and there, But still would grieve on, missing you, still feature         You as the one you were.