No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, Watches beside me in this windy place.

The speaker describes an intense solitude in a bleak, exposed setting—“this windy place”—where no human companion keeps vigil. Instead, the only presence is personified Night, imagined as a mourner with “tears on her dark face.” The lines fuse landscape and emotion: wind suggests desolation and restlessness, while Night’s tears externalize grief, implying that nature itself mirrors or participates in the speaker’s sorrow. The effect is both intimate and cosmic: private suffering is witnessed only by an indifferent-yet-sympathetic darkness. Millay’s compact imagery turns loneliness into a kind of nocturnal elegy, emphasizing how grief can feel simultaneously universal and utterly unshared.