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Thomas Hardy - Exeunt Omnes
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I 

      Everybody else, then, going,
And I still left where the fair was?…
Much have I seen of neighbour loungers
      Making a lusty showing,
      Each now past all knowing.


                  II 

      There is an air of blankness
In the street and the littered spaces;
Thoroughfare, steeple, bridge and highway
      Wizen themselves to lankness;
      Kennels dribble dankness.


                  III 

      Folk all fade. And whither,
As I wait alone where the fair was?
Into the clammy and numbing night-fog
      Whence they entered hither.
      Soon one more goes thither!
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