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Night comes, world-jewelled, * * *After the sun's red sea-death—quietless.
— Night
Night comes, world-jewelled, * * *After the sun's red sea-death—quietless.
I love night more than day—she is so lovely;My love to me in dreams which scarcely lie.
I live among the creatures of the night That this night will never go.
Most glorious night!Thou wert not sent for slumber!
For the nightShows stars and women in a better light.
Dark the Night, with breath all flowers,From some unknown afar.
O radiant Dark! O darkly fostered ray!Thou hast a joy too deep for shallow Day.
The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made.
Why are the heavens not filled with light? Why is the universe plunged into darkness?
Night is an ally of sorrowful people.
It was one of those nights But I knew I had to stay
O thievish Night,To the misled and lonely traveller?
* * * And when nightOf Belial, flown with insolence and wine.
Where eldest NightOf endless wars, and by confusion stand.
Sable-vested Night, eldest of things.
* * * For now beganAnd now wild beasts came forth, the woods to roam.
Darkness now rose,Her shadowy offspring.
The uniform darkness, fount of the gods,With her rear in the east and her head in the west.
Silence, ye wolves! while Ralph to Cynthia howls,And makes night hideous;—Answer him, ye owls!
In the dead vast and middle of the night.
'Tis now the very witching time of night,Contagion to this world.
And night is fled,Whose pitchy mantle overveil'd the earth.
I must become a borrower of the nightFor a dark hour or twain.
Come, seeling night,Which keeps me pale!
Light thickens; and the crowWhiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
The night is long that never finds the day.
Now the hungry lion roars, All with weary task foredone.
This is the nightThat either makes me or fordoes me quite.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, blackbrow'd night.
How beautiful this night! the balmiest sighTo curtain her sleeping world.
The night is well along; the day has drawn near. Let us therefore throw off the works belonging to darkness and let us put on the weapons of the light.
Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne,An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
How is night's sable mantle labor'd o'er,Built with divine ambition!
Night is a stealthy, evil Raven, Wrapt to the eyes in his black wings.
Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.
When it draws near to witching time of night.
The Night has a thousand eyes, With the dying sun.
The stars are forth, the moon above the topsI learn'd the language of another world.
Night's black Mantle covers all alike.
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:A shining peace.
The smoke ascendsAnd her great gift of sleep.
Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light,And drew behind the cloudy vale of night.
At night, to his own dark fancies a prey,Tormenting himself with his prickles.
Watchman, what of the night?
The night cometh when no man can work.
'Tis the witching hour of night, For what listen they?
I heard the trailing garments of the NightSweep through her marble halls.
O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear And they complain no more.
Then stars arise, and the night is holy.
And the night shall be filled with music And as silently steal away.
God makes sech nights, all white an' still All silence an' all glisten.
Night hath a thousand eyes.
A night of tears! for the gusty rain With her face all white and wet.
Night is the time for rest;Down on our own delightful bed!
Then awake! the heavens look bright, my dear;Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.
But we that have but span-long life, Thus, thus we'll fill the measure.
There never was night that had no morn.
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, And the highwayman came riding.
Day is ended, Darkness shroudsThe shoreless seas and lowering clouds.
O Night, most beautiful and rare! Bring'st down the gentle dew.
On dreary night let lusty sunshine fall.
To all, to each, a fair good night,And pleasing dreams; and slumbers light.
Swiftly walk over the western wave, Spirit of Night!
How beautiful is night!Breaks the serene of heaven.
Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills,Like footsteps upon wool.
I was heavy with the even,Round the day's dead sanctities.
Now black and deep the Night begins to fall,Of light, to kindle and create the whole.
Come, drink the mystic wine of Night,Is seen without its scars.
When, upon orchard and lane, breaks the white foam of the SpringGives, unto men that forget, Ophirs of fabulous ore.
Mysterious night! when our first parent knewThis glorious canopy of light and blue?
The summer skies are darkly blue, Through the dim halls of Night.
Night begins to muffle up the day.
Mine is the night, with all her stars.
