Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
William BlakeCome o'er the eastern hills, and let our winds Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
William BlakeTime is the mercy of Eternity; without Time's swiftness Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.
William Blake