Acquainted with the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.

 

I have outwalked the farthest 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.

 

--Robert Frost

Done