Ernest Christopher Dowson

Villanelle of Sunset

    Come hither, Child! and rest:
    This is the end of day,
  Behold the weary West!

    Sleep rounds with equal zest
    Man's toil and children's play:
  Come hither, Child! and rest.

    My white bird, seek thy nest,
    Thy drooping head down lay:
  Behold the weary West!

    Now are the flowers confest
    Of slumber: sleep, as they!
  Come hither, Child! and rest.

    Now eve is manifest,
    And homeward lies our way:
  Behold the weary West!

    Tired flower! upon my breast,
    I would wear thee alway:
  Come hither, Child! and rest;
  Behold, the weary West!