A Winter Twilight

by Arlo Bates

Arlo Bates

PALE beryl sky, with clouds
Hued like dove's wing,
The dying day,
And whose edge half enshrouds
The first fair evening star,
Most crystalline by far
Of all the stars that night enring,
Half human in its ray,—
What blessed, soothing sense of calm
Comes with this twilight,—sovereign balm
That takes at last the bitter sting
Of day's keen pain away.

Last updated May 13, 2023