Classic Poem

Gray veils of dusk bestrewed with purple threads
Hold earth, a-fevered, in their soothing power.
Soft coronals of twilight round our heads,
Silent we sit and dream this holy hour.
Night-winds are stirring thru the stately pines,
Shrouded in shadows 'gainst the star-lit sky;
Night-birds are singing in the fragrant vines,
Soft to their mates an eery lover's cry.
'Tis then I see thee most, and seeing love thee,
Knowing the dusk but beauty's trailing gown;
'Tis then I feel and know the stars above thee,
Jewels to garnish my love's golden crown.
Why should I long for garish light of day,
When twilight visions crowd my happy way?