ten o'clock
_ Asia _ . ... I feel , I see Those eyes which burn through smiles that fade in tears , Like stars half quenched in mists of silver dew . Prometheus Unbound , SHELLEY . It was only ten o'clock , really , and the curfew was ringing from every village on the mountain-side . The sound of the bells , half musical , half ominous , was borne by the bise across the vineyards , for the easterly wind that brings fine weather was blowing over lake and forest , and seemed to drive before it thin sheets of moonlight that turned the whole world soft . The village lay cosily dreaming beneath the sky . Once the curfew died away there was only the rustling of the plane trees in the old courtyard .