Time went away, and left him lingering

The last romantic in a little town

He drowses in the twilight,fingering

A scrap of muslin from on antique gown

Old odors find his nostrils when he drowses:

Cedar,Amontillado,lavender ;

And white facades of stately Georgian houses

Grow in the air to make a frame for her

She have been dead for thirty years or more ;

And been could she come,eyes glistening,

He would not hear her fingers strike the door :

He has gone deaf from too much listening

He has gone deaf,and time has gone away

The oleander flowers soon will pass

His julep stands forgotten on a tray

And "pickwick" sprawls forlornly on the grass

Over the garden drifts a scent of musk

And in the fringes of the fading light

Round hills, like lonely opals in the dusk

Deepen to purple, and are one with night