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.