Quotes
Quotes about Twilight
There is an evening twilight of the heart, When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
There is no twilight zone of honesty in business. A thing is right or it's wrong. It's black or it's white.
There is no twilight zone of honesty in business. A thing is right or it's wrong. It's black or it's white.
Ignorance seldom vaults into knowledge, but passes into it through an intermediate state of obscurity, even as night into day through twilight.
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 along by the wind-beaten hill. But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
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 along by the wind-beaten hill. But the day star attracted his eyes' sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, Where once in the fire of his youthful emotion He sang the bold anthem of Erin-go-bragh.
Happy the heart that keeps its twilight hour, And, in the depths of heavenly peace reclined, Loves to commune with thoughts of tender power,-- A shining Jacob's-ladder of the mind!
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.
Love prefers twilight to daylight.
Far better is it 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 neither victory nor defeat.
He loved the twilight that surrounds The border-land of old romance; Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance, And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, And mighty warriors sweep along, Magnified by the purple mist, The dusk of centuries and of song.
But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait At the portcullis, at thy castle gate, Longing to see the charmed door of dreams Turn on its noiseless hinges, delicate sleep!
Now twilight lets her curtain down And pins it with a star.
While twilight's curtain gathering far, Is pinned with a single diamond star.
Whilst twilight's curtain spreading far Was pinned with a single star.
The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; . . . . The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands, And the tide rises, the tide falls.
'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.
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.
The lengthening shadows wait The first pale stars of twilight.
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!
The twilight is sad and cloudy, The wind blows wild and free, And like the wings of sea-birds Flash the white caps of the sea.
Dim eclipse, disastrous twilight.
From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring both, the face of brightest heaven had changed To grateful twilight.
Our lady of the twilight She hath such gentle hands, So lovely are the gifts she brings From out of the sunset-lands, So bountiful, so merciful, So sweet of soul is she; And over all the world she draws Her cloak of charity.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green, With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke When round the ruins of their ancient oak The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols closed the busy day.
