The greenish sky glows up in misty reds, The purple shadows turn to brick and stone, The dreams wear thin, men turn upon their beds, And hear the milk-cart jangle by alone.
II Dusk
The cityβs street, a roaring blackened stream Walled in by granite, throβ whose thousand eyes A thousand yellow lights begin to gleam, And over all the pale untroubled skies.
III Rain at Night
The street-lamps shine in a yellow line Down the splashy, gleaming street, And the rain is heard now loud now blurred By the tread of homing feet.