In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs.
Now came still evening on, and twilight gray
Had in her sober livery all things clad;
Silence accompany'd; for beast and bird,
They to their grassy couch, these to their nests,
Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale;
She all night long her amorous descant sung;
Silence was pleas'd. Now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires; Hesperus, that led
The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon,
Rising in clouded majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight,
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair,
Like twilights too her dusky hair,
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn.
No pale gradations quench his ray,
No twilight dews his wrath allay.
There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,
The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill;
For his country he sigh'd, when at twilight repairing
To wander alone by the wind-beaten hill.
When twilight dews are falling soft
Upon the rosy sea, love,
I watch the star whose beam so oft
Has lighted me to thee, love.
There is an evening twilight of the heart,
When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
Whilst twilight's curtain spreading far,
Was pinned with a single star.
O Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and running streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams.
Somewhere--in desolate wind-swept space--
In Twilight-land--in No-man's land--
Two hurrying Shapes met face to face,
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, agape,
Shuddering in the gloaming light.
"I know not," said the second Shape,
"I only died last night."
Twilight, a timid fawn, went glimmering by,
And Night, the dark-blue hunter, followed fast.
When the sun's last rays are fading
Into twilight soft and dim.
We must bring no Twilight
Faith is the soul's consciousness of its Divine relationship and exalted destiny. It is the recognition by man's higher nature of sources of comfort and hope beyond anything that sense-knowledge discloses. It is the consciousness of a Divine Father toward Whom goes out all that is in affection and highest in moral aspiration; it is the premonition of a future life of which the best attainment here is but the twilight promise. In our day, the sudden and vast revelation of material wonders unsteadies and dims for the moment the spiritual sight; but the stars will shine clear again. The truth-seeking spirit and the spirit of faith, instead of being opposed, are in the deepest harmony. The man whose faith is most genuine is most willing to have its assertions tested by the severest scrutiny. And the passion for truth has underlying it a profound conviction that what is real is best; that when we get to the heart of things we shall find there what we most need. Faith is false to itself when it dreads truth, and the desire for truth is prompted by an inner voice of faith.
Now the trumpet summons us againânot as a call to bear arms, though arms we needânot as a call to battle, though embattled we areâbut a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"âa struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty and war itself.
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor ; spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.
Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space, In twilight land, in no man's land, Two hurrying shapes met face to face And bade each other stand. "And who are you?" cried one, a-gape, Shuddering in the glimmering light. "I know not," said the second shape, "I only died last night."
Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.
Violent can be sound and light in waking us from sleep of night. Gently comes the dawn's twilight Each step taken oh so slight.
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard; It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure. Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Now came still evening on; and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad: Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, They to they grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale.
Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed as the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight O'er the ramplarts we watched were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
Oh! say can you see by the dawn's early light What so proudly we hail'd at the twilight's last gleaming, Whose stripes and bright stars, thro' the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming; And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there! Oh! say, does that star spangled banner yet wave, O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
My mother used to say that there are no strangers, only friends you haven't met yet. She's now in a maximum security twilight home in Australia.