'Tis late. The lights go out,
The darkness chokes the room;
But presently a rose-red glow
Steals softly through the gloom.

The sunset flames and falls,
The dreams of day depart;
But northward one pale twilight star
Gleams lonely on my heart.

'Tis ever thus, they say—
The terror and the night;
Then through the dim immensity
God lifts a little light.