There must be somewhere a mysterious woman,
Mysterious and most marvelous of beauty,
Most beautiful,—miraculously kind,
Indeed a kindness passing understanding,
So great a kindness that it seemeth madness.
It seemeth madness, for she sallies forth
At dead of night into the dismal streets,
Into the dismal and deserted streets,
Monotously criss-crossing the city,
The monstrous, lightless, heartless, sleeping city,