I saw within a darkened room
An old man, lying in the gloom.
He saw my flowers, and then he sighed,
And turned upon his bed and died.
I took my way with soundless feet,
But none I met my steps to greet.
Save when a wakeful babe me spied,
And stretched his dimpled arms and cried.
They hushed his voice, nor knew his will—
I left the city sleeping still.