Dusk

EARTH'S parched lipsDrink coolness once again, for daylight dies.The young moon dips,A threaded gleam where sunset languid lies,And slowly twilight opens starry eyes.

Low in the WestDay's fading embers cast a last faint glowBehind a crestWhere curving hills on primrose paleness showSharp-lined in jet. Dusk stillness broods below.

A first long sighStirs from the broad and dew-wet breast of night.The leaves replyWith soft small rustling, moths take ghostly flight,And waking crickets shrill long-drawn delight.