Parliament Hill in the Evening

The houses fade in a melt of mist
  Blotching the thick, soiled air
With reddish places that still resist
  The Night’s slow care.

The hopeless, wintry twilight fades,
  The city corrodes out of sight
As the body corrodes when death invades
  That citadel of delight.

Now verdigris smoulderings softly spread
  Through the shroud of the town, as slow
Night-lights hither and thither shed
  Their ghastly glow.

– D.H. Lawrence, 1916

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