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.

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.

Night time is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours because everyone else read more

Night time is really the best time to work. All the ideas are there to be yours because everyone else is asleep.

The smoke ascends
In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires
Shine and are changed. In the valley
read more

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.

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.

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.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.

A decision made at night may be changed in the morning.

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.