I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
 
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
 
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
 
But not to call me back or say good—bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky
 
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right
I have been one acquainted with the night.

Terza rima

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