Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby’s daughter!  Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea. 481 MOORE:  Lalla Rookh, The Fire-Worshippers.

=Dawn.=

The morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness.
482
SHAKS.:  Tempest, Act v., Sc. 1.

The day begins to break, and night is fled, Whose pitchy mantle over-veil’d the earth. 483 SHAKS.:  1 Henry VI., Act ii., Sc. 2.

Clothing the palpable and familiar
With golden exhalations of the dawn.
484
COLERIDGE:  Death of Wallenstein, Act i., Sc. 1.

=Day, Days.=

At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale’s song in the grove. 485 BEATTIE:  The Hermit.

My days are in the yellow leaf;
  The flowers and fruits of love are gone;
The worm, the canker, and the grief
  Are mine alone!
486
BYRON:  On my Thirty-sixth Year.

One of those heavenly days that cannot die. 487 WORDSWORTH:  Nutting.

=Death.=

Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear;
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come, when it will come.
488
SHAKS.:  Jul.  Caesar, Act ii., Sc. 2.

Kings and mightiest potentates must die,
For that’s the end of human misery.
489
SHAKS.:  1 Henry VI., Act iii., Sc. 2.

Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
490
SHAKS.:  Rom. and Jul., Act iv., Sc. 5.

Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. 491 SHAKS.:  Richard II., Act ii., Sc. 1.

Behind her death,
Close following pace for pace, not mounted yet
On his pale horse.
492
MILTON:  Par.  Lost, Bk. x., Line 588.

Come to the bridal chamber, Death! 
Come to the mother’s, when she feels,
For the first time, her first-born’s breath;
Come when the blessed seals
That close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wail its stroke;
Come in consumption’s ghastly form,
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet song, and dance, and wine;
And thou art terrible,—­the tear,
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know, or dream, or fear
Of agony are thine.
493
FITZ-GREENE HALLECK:  Marco Bozzaris.

Death loves a shining mark, a signal blow. 494 YOUNG:  Night Thoughts, Night v., Line 1011.

To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
495
MACAULAY:  Lays Anc.  Rome, Horatius, xxvii.

Leaves have their times to fall,
And flowers to wither at the north wind’s breath,
And stars to set—­but all,
Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death.
496
MRS. HEMANS:  Hour of Death.