FADES into twilight the last golden gleam
Thrown by the sunset on upland and stream
Glints o'er the Serpentine—tips Notting Hill—
Dies on the summit of proud Pentonville.
Day brought us trouble, but Night brings us peace
Morning brought sorrow, but Eve bids it cease.
Gaslight and Gaiety, beam for a while;
Pleasure and Paraffin, lend us a smile.
Temples of Mammon are voiceless again—
Lonely policemen inherit Mark Lane