Dark House, By Which Once More I Stand Here In The Long Unlovely Street. Doors, Where My Heart Was Used To Beat So Quickly, Waiting For A Hand. A Hand That Can Be Clasped No More, Behold Me, For I Cannot Sleep, And Like A Guilty Thing I Creep At Earliest Morning To The Door. He Is Not Here; But Far Away The Noise Of Life Begins Again, And Ghastly Thro' The Drizzling Rain On The Bald Street Breaks The Blank Day.