When it draws near to witching time of night.

When it draws near to witching time of night.

Think of your own faults the first part of the night when you are awake, and the faults of others read more

Think of your own faults the first part of the night when you are awake, and the faults of others the latter part of the night when you are asleep

I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the
night cometh, when no read more

I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the
night cometh, when no man can work.

Las Vegas looks the way you'd imagine heaven must look at night.

Las Vegas looks the way you'd imagine heaven must look at night.

But we that have but span-long life,
The thicker must lay on the pleasure;
And since time read more

But we that have but span-long life,
The thicker must lay on the pleasure;
And since time will not stay,
We'll add night to the day,
Thus, thus we'll fill the measure.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind:
read more

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,
And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind:
There all in sweet confusion sought the shade,
And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's read more

A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
Where the sun, his day's work ended,
Lingers as in content,
There falls on the old, gray city
An influence luminous and serene,
A shining peace.

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening read more

Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,
And tender broken voice that fills
With ravishment the listening hours,--
Whisperings, wooings,
Liquid ripples, and soft ring-dove cooings
In low-toned rhythm that love's aching stills!
Dark the night
Yet is she bright,
For in her dark she brings the mystic star,
Trembling yet strong, as is the voice of love,
From some unknown afar.