Down the strait vistas where a city street 
Fades in pale dust and vaporous distances, 
Stained with far fumes the light grows less and less 
And the sky reddens round the day's retreat. 
Now out of orient chambers, cool and sweet, 
Like Nature's pure lustration, Dusk comes down. 
Now the lamps brighten and the quickening town 
Rings with the trample of returning feet. 
And Pleasure, risen from her own warm mould 
Sunk all the drowsy and unloved daylight 
In layers of odorous softness, Paphian girls 
Cover with gauze, with satin, and with pearls, 
Crown, and about her spangly vestments fold 
The ermine of the empire of the Night.