The mind by day is free and lighted, clear,

A room wherein the world's good work gets done.

Far things are far away, and near things near,

Guarded against confusions crowding in.

At night the mind is open to the sky,

And dark and still it lies, but not asleep.

Down from the depths of cloud the shadows fly,

And murmuring along the walls they creep.

All night they loom and pass and never rest,

Familiar, new, fantastic, cool, or kind,

And every one an uninvited guest,

Crying and seeking, wandering and blind.

Near things are far away, and far things near.

The mind by day is free and lighted clear.