IIThe twilight turns from amethystTo deep and deeper blue,The lamp fills with a pale green glowThe trees of the avenue.The old piano plays an air,Sedate and slow and gay;She bends upon the yellow keys,Her head inclines this way.Shy thought and grave wide eyes and handsThat wander as they list—The twilight turns to darker blueWith lights of amethyst.
The twilight turns from amethystTo deep and deeper blue,The lamp fills with a pale green glowThe trees of the avenue.The old piano plays an air,Sedate and slow and gay;She bends upon the yellow keys,Her head inclines this way.Shy thought and grave wide eyes and handsThat wander as they list—The twilight turns to darker blueWith lights of amethyst.