That hour, o' night's black arch the keystane.

Nae man can tether time or tide.

Inspiring bold John Barleycorn! What dangers thou canst make us scorn! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquabae, we'll face the devil!

But pleasures are like poppies spread- You seize the flow'r, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river- A moment white-then melts forever.

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day. What hours, O what black hours we have spent This night!

On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings - oh, happy chance! - I went forth without being observed, My house being now at rest. In darkness and secure, …

Come, blessed Darkness, come and bring thy balm For eyes grown weary of the garish day! Come with thy soft, slow steps, thy garments gray, Thy veiling shadows,…