The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, ‘T is not too late to seek a newer world. ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON Share this:TweetEmailPrintMoreRedditShare on TumblrLike this:Like Loading... Related TwohundredthirteenTwohundredfifteen