Night and Moon

[ Hammer, played by Groucho Marx, speaking :] I’ll meet you tonight under the moon. Oh, I can see you now, you and the moon. You wear a necktie so I’ll know you.

It faded on the crowing of the cock. Some say that ever ’gainst that season comes Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow’d and so gracious is the time.

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

 

The ghosts of the villages trail in the sky Making a new twilight.

 

John Thomas says good-night to Lady Jane, a little droopingly, but with a hopeful heart.

 

If your life at night is good, you think you have / Everything; but, if in that quarter things go wrong, / You will consider your best and truest interests /

The Darkness has begun. There will be no dawn. J.R.R.

 

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;

 

Come into the garden, Maud,

 

Sunset and evening star,

 

Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day

 

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

 

O! swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

 

And here face downward in the sun To feel how swift how secretly The shadow of the night comes on.

 

Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark.

 

All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon; All night has the casement jessamine stirr’d To the dancers dancing in tune; Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon.

 

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown, Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone.

 

Set forth three children under the moon, three cherubs drawn by Michelangelo, done this with her legs spread out in the terrible months in the chapel.

The moon has set, and the Pleiades; it is midnight, and time passes, and I sleep alone.

I stroke the beam of my lamp

It is the evening that questions thus from within me.

There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;

to reporters the day after his accession to the Presidency on the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt: