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The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.
Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.
Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.
Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence read more
Now came still evening on; and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad:
Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
They to they grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.
To me at least was never evening yet
But seemed far beautifuller than its day.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
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The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices.
And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
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And whiter grows the foam,
The small moon lightens more;
And as I turn me home,
My shadow walks before.
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The read more
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye read more
Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flower
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Begins to bloom for sons of night.
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration.