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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, 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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