English poem
Tis growing dusk, yet in the gathering gloom
by Carolyn Wells (1862–1942)
’Tis growing dusk, yet in the gathering gloom I still can see two faces in the room. On one face two of my first I can spy, And on the other twenty I descry. And of my second, one face shows me none While I see five upon the other one. My whole is on one face; but placed with care Above the other rests on shining hair.