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DAY AND NIGHT.
NE eve my Margery and I Sat watching—blissfully alone—The splendor creeping down the sky, The darkness climbing to its throne.The sun was somewhere in the West; We knew it by the jets of lightThat leaped against the evening's breast; But he was sunken out of sight.
And as we marked the gleams that gave To twilight transient hues of dawn,The Night, that painter pale and grave, Brushed out the lines that Day had drawn.
On lake and landscape, cloud and sky, With violet shades blurred all the parts,Until we felt—my love and I— An evening in our very hearts.
And so I said—her hand in mine, Her head against my shoulder laid—
