The pretty lark,
Climbing the welkin clear,
Chaunts with a "Cheer, here, peer,
I near my dear!"
When stooping thence,
Seeming her fall to rue,
"Adieu," she cries,
"Adieu! dear Love, adieu!"
When after a rough and stormy day there is a lull in the wind at the going down of the sun, old men say: "Us shall have better weather now, for the wind's gone to sleep with the sun."
Devon.
When a moorland shepherd meets his sheep on a winter's night coming down from the hilltops (where they prefer to sleep) he knows that a storm is brewing.