The shades of the gloaming around me are stealing,
The lure of the dusk through the silences call,
While blossoming incense comes mutely appealing,
And choiring wood-voices, vespering, fall.
Immersed in the deep of my dim sylvan-bower,
Upborne on the breast of its emerald tide,
I drift with the gleam of the vanishing hour
Afar—where my uttermost longings abide.
Public-domain source text
Gloamtide
by Georgia Douglas Johnson
From Standard Ebooks · standardebooks/georgia-douglas-johnson_poetry
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