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Then awake! the heavens look bright, my dear; 'Tis now the very witching time of night,

'Tis never too late for delight, my dear;

And the best of all ways

To lengthen our days

Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.

MOORE-The Young May Moon.

2

(See also MACBETH, ROTRON)

But we that have but span-long life,

The thicker must lay on the pleasure;

And since time will not stay,

We'll add night to the day,

Thus, thus we'll fill the measure.

Duet printed 1795. Probably of earlier date.

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When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes

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Skarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; And with thy bloody and invisible hand, Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!

Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 46.

18

Light thickens; and the crow

Makes wing to the rooky wood:
Good things of the day begin to droop and drowse;
Whiles night's black agents to their preys do rouse.
Macbeth. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 50.

19

The night is long that never finds the day. Macbeth. Act IV. Sc. 3. L. 240.

20

(See also MULOCK)

Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon; Whilst the heavy ploughman snores, All with weary task foredone. Midsummer Night's Dream. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 378.

21

This is the night That either makes me or fordoes me quite. Othello. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 128.

22

Come, gentle night, come, loving, blackbrow'd night.

Romeo and Juliet. Act III. Sc. 2. L. 20.

23

How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh Which Vernal Zephyrs breathe in evening's ear Were discord to the speaking quietude

That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon

vault,

Studded with stars, unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur

rolls,

Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.

SHELLEY Queen Mab. Pt. IV.

24

Swiftly walk over the western wave, Spirit of Night!

SHELLEY-TO Night.

25

How beautiful is night!

A dewy freshness fills the silent air;

No mist obscures, nor cloud nor speck nor stain Breaks the serene of heaven.

SOUTHEY Thalaba. Bk. I.

26

Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills, Like footsteps upon wool.

TENNYSON-Enone. St. 20.

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