Rabdranath Tagore
In the deep shadows of the ray July,
With secret steps,
Thou walkest, silent
As night, edg all watchers.
To-day thehas closed its eyes,
Heedless of the sistent calls of the loud east d,
And a thick veil has been drawhe eve-wakeful be sky.
The woodnds have hhed their songs,
And doors are all shut at every hoe.
Thou art the solitary wayfarerthis deserted street.
Or rather—He passed Us—
The Dews drew quiverg and chill—
For only Gossar, My Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—Oh y only friend,
My Best beloved,
The gates are openy hoe—do not pass by like a drea.