The Sun kept setting-setting-still
No Hue of Afternoon-
Upon the Village I perceived
From House to House 'twas Noon-

The Dusk kept dropping-dropping-still
No Dew upon the Grass-
But only on my Forehead stopped-
And wandered in my Face-

My Feet kept drowsing-drowsing-still
My fingers were awake-
Yet why so little sound-Myself
Unto my Seeming-make?

How well I knew the Light before-
I could see it now-
'Tis Dying-I am doing-but
I'm not afraid to know-