Oh, Sweet WO'N, thank you, thank you! This verse makes all the difference in the world:

Or rather -- He passed Us --
The Dews drew quivering and chill --
For only Gossamer, my Gown --
My Tippet -- only Tulle--


Before, the line about passing the setting sun made no sense to me, as it was out of context with everything else in the poem. That is, it was the only line that went into fantasy. All else was real-world, except for 'tis centuries. I had to look up tippet. Oh, and that name, Lavinia. You never hear that any more, but my Aunt Mary had a friend named that, whom she mentioned often.