Now came still evening on, and twilight grew
Had in her sober livery all things clad
Milton, Paradise Lost, Book IV, 598-599
Her sober livery crosses the sky,
And garbs the world in grey,
A cloth putting the world to bed
As night comes; marking the end
Of garish day, twilight gently falls,
And in her dimming caresses
The sunlight fades away.
Today’s poem is a nice break from the intensity of some of the previous poems. I hope that you enjoy it too.
The Hapless Neo-Romantic