Thomas Hardy - The dream is - which? lyrics

I am laughing by the brook with her,   Splashed in its tumbling stir; And then it is a blankness looms   As if I walked not there, Nor she, but found me in haggard rooms,   And treading a lonely stair. With radiant cheeks and rapid eyes   We sit where none espies; Till a harsh change comes edging in   As no such scene were there, But winter, and I were bent and thin,   And cinder-gray my hair. We dance in heys around the hall,   Weightless as thistleball; And then a curtain drops between,   As if I danced not there, But wandered through a mounded green   To find her, I knew where.