Some Evening when you are sitting alone,
By your high window motionless and white --
I shall come by the way
That none but I have known,
Into the quiet room out of the night.
You will know I have come,
Without turning your head
Because of the way the air will lie quite still,
As though it waited for something to be said
That no man has ever said,
And no man will.
But you will be wiser than the air.
You know that for the thing we feel
There is no word --
And you will not move
Even when I turn to go,
Even when the sound of my footsteps
Is no longer heard.