If I could stop the dawn, I would;
if the house across the way
should fail to lose its ghostliness
to the wretched light of day,
I might remain as I am now,
might stumble on the truth,
might see the beasts of reason serve
stripped of claw and tooth.
What I have done, what I have seen
is all so strange, so strange—
I cannot bear that the sun may rise
and show me that nothing has changed.
Light On Dark Water 