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all night in my vision, Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping
 * and stopping.

Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of
 * sleepers,

Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted,
 * contradictory.

Pausing, gazing, bending, and stopping.

How solemn they look there, stretched and still! How quiet they breathe, the little children in their
 * cradles!

The wretched features of ennuyés, the white features
 * of corpses, the livid faces of drunkards, the sick-gray
 * faces of onanists.

The gashed bodies on battle-fields, the insane in their
 * strong-doored rooms, the sacred idiots, the newborn
 * emerging from gates, and the dying emerging
 * from gates,

The night pervades them and infolds them.

The married couple sleep calmly in their bed—he
 * with his palm on the hip of the wife, and she
 * with her palm on the hip of the husband, (426)