In the language of the Zenana there are two twilights, “when the Sun drops into the sea,” and “when he splashes up stars for spray,” ... the _Union_, that is, of _Earth and Sun_, _and_, again, of _Light and Darkness_. And the space between is the time of times in these sun-wearied plains in which I dwell. One sees the world in a gentle haze of reminiscence--reminiscence of the best. There, across the horizon, flames the Sun’s “good-bye.” Great cave of mystery, or lake of liquid fire: anon pool of opal and amethyst, thoughts curiously adjustable to the day that is done, memory of joy or sorrow, of strength of love, or disregard of pain. Gradually the colour fades, now to a golden fleece of t…
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