The sun has "dropped down," and the "day is dead." The silence and calm of coming night are over everything. The shadowy twilight lies softly on sleeping flowers and swaying boughs, on quiet fountains—the marble basins of which gleam snow-white in the uncertain light—on the glimpse of the distant ocean
seen through the giant elms. A floating mist hangs in the still warm air, making heaven and earth mingle in one sweet confusion.