• The sounds in the evening,
    Go all through the house,
    The click of the clock,
    And the pick of a mouse,
    The footsteps of people,
    On the top floor,
    The skirts by my mother,
    That brush on the door,
    The crick of the boards,
    And the creak of the chairs,
    The fluttering murmers,
    Outside by the stairs,
    The ring of the bell,
    The arrival with guests,
    The laugh of my father,
    By one of the jests,
    The clashing of dishes,
    As dinner goes around,
    The babble of voices,
    That distance makes thin,
    The mewings of cats,
    That seem just by my ear,
    The hooting of owls,
    That can never seem far,
    The queer little noises,
    That no-one explains,
    Till the moon by the slats,
    Of my window blind rains,
    And the world of my eyes,
    And my eyes melt with steam,
    As I find on my pillow,
    The world of my dream.