Bright hours atone for dark ones past,
And whose sweet tears o'er wrong forgiven,
Shine, as they fall, with light from heaven.
Moore—Lalla Rookh.
24. The midnight hour, when
Slow through the studious gloom, thy pausing eye,
Led by the glimmering taper, moves around
The sacred volumes of the dead.
Akenside—Pleasures of the Imagination.
25. When evening's virgin Queen