CHECK by James Stephens
The night was creeping on the ground;
She crept, and did not make a sound.
Until she reached the tree, and then
She covered it, and stole again
Along the grass beside the wall,
I heard the rustle of her shawl
As she threw blackness everywhere
Upon the sky and ground and air,
And in the room where I was hid.
But no matter what she did
To everything that was without
She could not put my candle out
So I stared at the night, and she
Stared back, solemnly, at me.