Down the quiet eve,
Thro’ my window with the sunset
Pipes to me a distant organ
Foolish ditties;
And, as when you change
Pictures in a magic lantern,
Books, beds, bottles, floor, and ceiling
Fade and vanish,
And I'm well once more...
August flares adust and torrid,
But my heart is full of April
Sap and sweetness.
In the quiet eve
I am loitering, longing, dreaming...
Dreaming, and a distant organ
Pipes me ditties.
I can see the shop,
I can smell the sprinkled pavement,
Where she serves — her chestnut chignon
Thrills my senses!
O, the sight and scent,
Wistful eve and perfumed pavement!
In the distance pipes an organ...
The sensation
Comes to me anew,
And my spirit for a moment
Thro’ the music breathes the blessed
Airs of London.