Nobody

Nobody, ancient mischief, nobody,
Harasses always with an absent body.

Nobody coming up the road, nobody,
Like a tall man in a dark cloak, nobody.

Nobody about the house, nobody,
Like children creeping up the stairs, nobody.

Nobody anywhere in the garden, nobody,
Like a young girl quiet with needlework, nobody.

Nobody coming, nobody, not yet here,
Incessantly welcomed by the wakeful ear.

Until this nobody shall consent to die
Under his curse must everyone lie –

The curse of his envy, of his grief and fright,
Of sudden rape and murder screamed in the night.

—

Robert Graves (1895-1985)
Robert Graves, The Complete Poems; Penguin Books, Harmondsworth; ISBN 0141182067