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Night brings our troubles to the light, rather than banishes them.
Night brings our troubles to the light, rather than banishes them.
The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
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The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The sun
Closing his benediction,
Sinks, and the darkening air
Thrills with the sense of the triumphing night,--
Night with train of stars
And her great gift of sleep.
I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls.
I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls.
A man can do only what a man can do. But if he does that each day he can sleep read more
A man can do only what a man can do. But if he does that each day he can sleep at night and do it again the next day.
Make sure you never, never argue at night. You just lose a good night's sleep, and you can't settle anything read more
Make sure you never, never argue at night. You just lose a good night's sleep, and you can't settle anything until morning anyway.
A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.
A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.
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.]
Night comes, world-jewelled, . . .
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with read more
Night comes, world-jewelled, . . .
The stars rush forth in myriads as to wage
War with the lines of Darkness; and the moon,
Pale ghost of Night, comes haunting the cold earth
After the sun's red sea-death--quietless.
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.