West-running Brook1928I 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-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the skyProclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.