His day's hot task hath ended in the West;
The owl, night's herald, shrieks 'tis very late;
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest
And coal-black clouds, that shadow heaven's light,
Do summon us to part and bid good-night.
And this morning, in Romeo and Juliet:
The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night,
Checkering the Eastern clouds with streaks of light.
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels;