When Evening first, rising from day-long rest,
Cups her slow hands 'round Day's too dazzling light,
Still through her fingers slips a radiance bright
Reddening and spreading in the darkening west.
She sighs; and in the fragrant dusk, the breeze
Makes whispered music through the quivering trees;
Then strengthening Night snuffs out the Day's last spark
And sets the first star shimmering in the dark.