Page:Original manuscript of Gitanjali - Rabindranath Tagore - Rothenstein collection.pdf/91

 Art thou abroad on this stormy night, on thy journey of love my friend? The sky groans like one in despair. I have no sleep tonight. Ever and again I open my door and look out on the darkness, my friend!

I can see nothing before me. I wonder where lies thy path!

By what dim share of the ink-black river, by what far edge of the frowning forest, through what mazy depth of darkness gloom art thou threading thy course to come to me, my friend?