"We sat at the window"
(Bournemouth, 1875)

We sat at the window looking out,

And the rain came down like silken strings

That Swithin's day.  Each gutter and spout

Babbled unchecked in the busy way

    Of witless things:

Nothing to read, nothing to see

Seemed in that room for her and me

    On Swithin's day.

We were irked by the scene, by our own selves; yes

For I did not know, nor did she infer

How much there was to read and guess

By her in me, and to see and crown

    By me in her. 

Wasted were two souls in their prime,

And great was the waste, that July time

    When the rain came down.

Thomas Hardy - "Moments of Vision and Miscellaneous verses"