The sky is overcast; the streets deserted;
All is still. At the dead of night.
Dark houses line the streets;
The city sleeps.
My body is weary, my eyes sleepy,
Alone, I walk home.
Soon it will rain.
I hurry on.
In the window of a house
At the end of the lane,
Suddenly I see a dim
blue electric light.
In this dark deserted city,
Only this window is lit;
I come to it and look up,
Right then it closes.
In that brief instant I glimpse
A white hand--
As the panes swing to
And close shut.
A white arm, some fingers,
The flash of a diamond ring,
A bracelet, the dim-blue light-
All in the blink of an eye.
Sleep descends on my eyes,
Darkness over the world;
I shall die without having known
The woman behind the arm.
I reach my room, the rain begins,
I can hear the wind shriek;
If I see her tomorrow I shall not know
To her this hand belonged.
I lie on my bed, sleep eludes;
I do not how late it is;
--If ever I should touch that hand,
I shall not know that it is this.
