And by the bright track of his fiery car,
Gives token of a goodly day to-morrow. 24-y. 3.

13
The sun hath made his journal greeting to
The under-generation.*

5-iv. 3.

14
See how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun !t
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a younker, prancing to his love!

23–ii. 1. 15 Look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.

35-iii. 5.

16 Look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.

36-i. 1.

17 The morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness.

1-V. 1.

18 Look, the unfolding star calls up the shepherd.

5-iv. 2.

19
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest,
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high,
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast
The sun ariseth in his majesty;
Who doth the world so gloriously behold,
That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold.

Poems.

* Antipodes.

† Aurora takes for a time her farewell of the sun, when she dismisses him to his diurnal course.

20 The wolves have prey'd : and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray.*

6-v. 3.

21 Night's swift dragons cut the clouds full fast, And yonder shines Aurora's harbinger. 7-iii. 2.

22 This morning, like the spirit of a youth That means to be of note, begins betimes.

30-iv. 4.

23 The glowworm shows the matin to be near, And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire. 36-i, 5.

24
The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn,
Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat
A wake the god of day.

36_i. 1.

25 The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.

21—ii. 2.

26
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
Το
ope
their golden eyes.

31-ii. 3. 27 Look, how the sun begins to set; How ugly night comes breathing at his heels: Even with the vail and dark’ning of the sun, To close the day up, life is done.

a

28

How still the evening is, As hush'd on purpose to grace harmony ! 6-ii. 3.

29

Light thickens ; and the crow Makes wing to the rooky wood.

15-iii. 2. 30

The silent hours steal on, And flaky darkness breaks within the east.

24-v. 3.

31
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day :
Now spurs the lated traveller apace,
To gain the timely inn.

15--iii. 3.

32 This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick, It looks a little paler: 'tis a day, Such as the day is, when the sun is hid. 9-v. 1.

33 Good things of day begin to droop and drowse ; Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse.

15--iii. 2. 34

By the clock 'tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp:
Is it night's predominance, or the day's shame,
That darkness does the face of earth intomb,
When living light should kiss it?

15—ii. 4.

35
Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait,
His day's hot task hath ended in the west:
The owl, night's herald, shrieks, 'tis very late ;
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest;
And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light,
Do summon us to part, and bid good night.

Poems. 36

Swift, swift, you dragons of the night!-that dawning May bare the raven's eye.

31-ii. 2.

37
The gaudy, babbling, and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea ;
And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades,
That drag the tragic melancholy night;
Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings,
Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

22-iv. 1.

38
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phæbus' mansion ; such a wagoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately. 354jii. 2.

33
Sable Night, mother of Dread and Fear,
Upon the world dim darkness doth display,
And in her vaulty prison stows the day.

Poems.

40 The dragon wing of night o'erspreads the earth.

26-v. 9.

41
Now the hungry lion roars,

And the wolf behowls the moon;
Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,

All with weary task fordone.
Now the wasted brands do glow,

Whilst the scritch-owl, scritching loud,
Puts the wretch, that lies in woe,

In remembrance of a shroud.
Now it is the time of night,

That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,

In the church-way paths to glide:
And we fairies, that do run

By the triple Hecate's team,
From the presence of the sun,

Following darkness like a dream. 7-v. 2.

42

The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense
Repairs itself by rest.

31-1. 2. 43

Civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, 35-iii. 2.

44

The bat hath flown
His cloister'd flight ;-
The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hums,
Hath rung night's yawning peal.

15-iii. 2.

45 That when the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, and lights the lower world, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen, In murders, and in outrage, bloody here; But when, from under this terrestrial ball, He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines, And darts his light through every guilty hole, Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves.

17-iii. 2. 46

Jove's lightnings, the precursors O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-out-running were not : The fire and cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.

1-i. 2.

47
We often see against some storm,
A silence in the heavens, the rack* stand still,
The bold winds speechless, and the orb below
As hush as death : anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region.