|Acquainted with the Night |
by: Robert Frost
|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,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Percy Bysshe Shelley
- I ARISE from dreams of thee
- In the first sweet sleep of night,
- When the winds are breathing low,
- And the stars are shining bright
- I arise from dreams of thee,
- And a spirit in my feet
- Has led me -- who knows how? --
- To thy chamber-window, sweet!
- The wandering airs they faint
- On the dark, the silent stream, --
- The champak odors fall
- Like sweet thoughts in a dream,
- The nightingale's complaint,
- It dies upon her heart,
- As I must die on thine,
- O, beloved as thou art!
- O, lift me from the grass!
- I die, I faint, I fall!
- Let thy love in kisses rain
- On my lips and eyelids pale,
- My cheek is cold and white, alas!
- My Heart beats loud and fast
- Oh! press it close to thine again,
- Where it will break at last!
When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancell'd woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanish'd sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.
But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restor'd and sorrows end.