A vanished house that for an hour I knew By some forgotten chance when I was young Had once a glimmering¹ window overhung With honeysuckle wet with evening dew. Along the path tall dusky dahlias grew, And shadowy hydrangeas reached and swung Ferociously²； and over me, among The moths³ and mysteries, a blurred⁴ bat flew.

    Somewhere within there were dim presences Of days that hovered⁵ and of years gone by. I waited, and between their silences There was an evanescent faded noise； And though a child, I knew it was the voice Of one whose occupation was to die.