I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have out-walked 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.

-Robert Frost