No one has seen the beauty of the night.
Many have stood under the moon and gone
Through lovely fogs of dusk until the dawn,
Always with blindness folded on their sight.
Many have worshipped there; many have poured
Their being out like water into sands;
Many have lifted timid lover hands,
And none has seen or known what is adored.

The monstrous beauty that is darkness blows
About them in a vapor; like linked steel
It fastens on their languid tread; they feel
Nearness of unimaginable repose,
That is no more than a shadow at the heel
Until there falls the darkness no moon knows.