II

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II

The Twilight Turns from Amethyst

The twilight turns from amethyst

To deep and deeper blue,

The lamp fills with a pale green glow

The 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 hands

That wander as they list⁠—

The twilight turns to darker blue

With lights of amethyst.