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.

Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
- Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas,

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the read more

A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.

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.

After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. After every storm, there comes clear, open slies.

After winter comes the summer. After night comes the dawn. After every storm, there comes clear, open slies.

Boast during the day; be humble at night.

Boast during the day; be humble at night.

At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
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At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold read more

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

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.