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.

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

Day hath put on his jacket, and around
His burning bosom buttoned it with stars.

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.

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 pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.

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

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.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

Day's lustrous eyes grow heavy in sweet death.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.

Just then return'd at shut of evening flowers.