ail, Twilight

The sun has set on these rough cliffs, vague reminders of our rough beginnings and foreshadows of our darker endings.

Hail Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour!

— by William Wordsworth

Hail Twilight, sovereign of one peaceful hour! Not dull art Thou as undiscerning Night; But studious only to remove from sight Day’s mutable distinctions. Ancient Power! Thus did the waters gleam, the mountains lower, To the rude Briton, when, in wolf-skin vest Here roving wild, he laid him down to rest On the bare rock, or through a leafy bower Looked ere his eyes were closed. By him was seen The self-same Vision which we now behold; At thy meek bidding, shadowy Power! brought forth These mighty barriers, and the gulf between; The flood, the stars—a spectacle as old As the beginning of the heavens and earth!