Still Twilight, welcome! Rest, how sweet art thou!
Now eve o’erhangs the western cloud’s thick brow;
The far-stretch’d curtain of retiring light,
With fiery treasures fraught; that on the sight
Flash from its bulging sides, where darkness lowers,
In Fancy’s eye, a chain of mould’ring tow’rs;
Or craggy coasts just rising into view,
Midst jav’lins dire and darts of streaming blue.

— Robert Bloomfield Attributed Forty Thousand Quotations (1917)

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