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 We look for on the stage than in the street. I must have been a yard away from him Yet as we passed I felt the touch of him Like that of something soft in a dark room. There's hardly need of saying that we said nothing, Or that we gave each other an occasion For more than our eyes uttered. He was gone Before I knew it, like a solid phantom; And his reality was for me some time In its achievement—given that one's to be Convinced that such an incubus at large Was ever quite real. The season was upon us When there are fitter regions in the world— Though God knows he would have been safe enough— Than Rome for strayed Americans to live in,