Enough to warm but not enough to burn.
What, then, shall we sit idly down and say
The night hath come; it is no longer day?
The night hath not come; we are not quite
Cut off from labor by the failing light.
Something remains for us to do or dare,
Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear.
Not Œdipus Colonus, or Greek Ode,
Or tales of pilgrims that one morning rode
Out of the gateway of the Tabard Inn.