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The air is full of hints of grief, Strange voices touched with pain-- The pathos of the falling leaf And rustling of the rain. - Thomas Bailey Aldrich The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve. - Sir Edwin Arnold, Light of Asia (bk. II, l. 466) The deathbed of a day, how beautiful. - Philip James Bailey Fair Venus shines Even in the eye of day; with sweetest beam Propitious shines, and shakes a trembling flood Of softened radiance from her dewy locks. - Mrs. Anna Letitia Barbauld, A Summer Evening's Meditation (l. 10) When the sun's last rays are fading Into twilight soft and dim. - Theodore L. Barker, Thou Wilt Think of Me Again Still Twilight, welcome! Rest, how sweet art thou! Now eve o'erhangs the western cloud's thick brow; The far-stretch'd curtain of retiring light, With fiery treasures fraught; that on the sight Flash from its bulging sides, where darkness lowers, In Fancy's eye, a chain of mould'ring tow'rs; Or craggy coasts just rising into view, Midst jav'lins dire and darts of streaming blue. - Robert Bloomfield The summer day is closed, the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west. - William Cullen Bryant, An Evening Reverie And not a breath crept through the rosy air, and yet the forest leaves seemed stirred with prayer. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron) As twilight melts beneath the moon away. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron) Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till--'tis gone--and all is gray. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron), Childe Harold (canto IV, st. 29) 'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail. - Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron), Don Juan (canto II, st. 49) How lovely are the portals of the night, When stars come out to watch the daylight die. - Thomas Cole (1), Twilight, see Louis L. Noble's "Life and Works of Cole", ch. XXXV Now the last red ray is gone; Now the twilight shadows hie. - Susan Coolidge (pseudonym of Sarah Chauncey Woolsey) Twilight makes us pensive; Aurora is the goddess of activity; despair curses at midnight; hope blesses at noon. - Benjamin Disraeli, 1st Earl of Beaconsfield Beauteous Night lay dead Under the pall of twilight, and the love-star sickened and shrank. - George Eliot (pseudonym of Mary Ann Evans Cross), The Spanish Gypsy (bk. II) Twilight is like death; the dark portal of night comes upon us, to open again in the glorious morning of immortality. - James Ellis The sky is blue above, And cool the green sod lies below; It is the hour that claims for love The halcyon moments as they flow. - James Thomas Fields Nature hath appointed the twilight as a bridge to pass us out of day into night. - Thomas Fuller (1) Along the west the golden bars Still to a deeper glory grew; Above our heads the faint few stars Looked out from the unfathomed blue; And the fair city's clamorous jars Seemed melted in the evening hue. - William Belcher Glazier In the twilight of morning to climb to the top of the mountain,-- Thee to salute, kindly star, earliest herald of day,-- And to await, with impatience, the gaze of the ruler of heaven.-- Youthful delight, oh, how oft lur'st thou me out in the night. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Venetian Epigrams Fades the light, And afar Goeth day, cometh night, And a star Leadeth all Speedeth all To their rest. - Bret Harte (Francis Bret Harte) The lengthening shadows wait The first pale stars of twilight. - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Poems of the Class of '29--Even Song (st. 6) Sweet shadows of twilight! how calm their repose, While the dewdrops fall soft in the breast of the rose! How blest to the toiler his hour of release When the vesper is heard with its whisper of peace! - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Poems of the Class of '29--Our Banker (st. 12) The gloaming comes, the day is spent, The sun goes out of sight, And painted is the occident With purple sanguine bright. - Alexander Hume (Home), Story of a Summer Day The moon is bleached as white as wool, And just dropping under; Every star is gone but three, And they hang far asunder,-- There's a sea-ghost all in gray, A tall shape of wonder! - Jean Ingelow Displaying page 1 of 3 for this topic: Next >> [1] 2 3
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