In the morning be first up, and in the evening last to go to bed, for they that sleep catch read more

In the morning be first up, and in the evening last to go to bed, for they that sleep catch no fish

Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.

Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night.

O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
read more

O how grandly cometh Even,
Sitting on the mountain summit,
Purple-vestured, grave, and silent,
Watching o'er the dewy valleys,
Like a good king near his end.

Hath thy heart within thee burned,
At evening's calm and holy hour?

Hath thy heart within thee burned,
At evening's calm and holy hour?

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the read more

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word;
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure.
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
read more

I was heavy with the even,
When she lit her glimmering tapers
Round the day's dead sanctities.
I laughed in the morning's eyes.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
read more

But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
Those purer fires on high.

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.