Evening Poem by David Mitchell

The long day now at last is o'er,
Its joys and sorrows done,
And it will not be long before
Its sum of hours has run.

The sun has set and gone below
The occidental skies,
And while the heaven is all aglow
The ephemeral twilight dies.

How beautiful! above my head
I see the vast dark cloud,
And little light; but this dark spread
Clothes dying day, like a shroud.

Night's solemn chill pervades the air,
From garish day a release:
Enjoy it while you may, and share
In this mild evening peace.