The short sweet purple twilight dreams Of vanish'd day, of coming night; And like gold moons in the soft light Each scented drooping orange gleams From out the glossy leaves black-green That make through noon a cool dark screen. The dusk is silence, save the thrill That stirs it from cicalas shrill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES BY CLAUDIA by EMILY JANE BRONTE EVE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH ON VENUS ARISING FROM THE SEA by ANTIPATER OF SIDON CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 6. OF PATIENCE by WILLIAM BASSE HER ANSWER by JOHN BENNETT (1865-1956) |