Acquainted with the Night

Robert Frost

(1874-1963)

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 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 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 sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

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