The night was creeping on the ground; <br />She crept and did not make a sound <br />Until she reached the tree, and then <br />She covered it, and sole again <br />Along the grass beside the wall. <br /> <br />I heard the rustle of her shawl <br />As she threw blackness everywhere <br />Upon the sky and ground and air, <br />And in the room where I was hid: <br />But no matter what she did <br />To everything that was without, <br />She could not put my candle out. <br /> <br />So I stared at the night, and she <br />Stared back solemnly at me.<br /><br />James Brunton Stephens<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/check-3/