Down the strait vistas where a city street Fades in pale dust and vaporous distances,
Stained with far fumes the light grows less and less And the sky reddens round the day's retreat.
Now out of orient chambers, cool and sweet,
Like Nature's pure lustration,
Dusk comes down.
Now the lamps brighten and the quickening town Rings with the trample of returning feet.
And Pleasure, risen from her own warm mould Sunk all the drowsy and unloved daylight In layers of odorous softness,
Paphian girls Cover with gauze, with satin, and with pearls,
Crown, and about her spangly vestments fold The ermine of the empire of the Night.
