Friday,
about four o'clock in the afternoon
And age and sorrow clear the soul , As night and silence clear the sky , And hopes steal out like silver stars , And next day brightens by and by . '' On the Monday morning , we left Gloucester on horseback , with two baggage-horses beside those we rode . We dined at Worcester , and lay that night at Bridgenorth . On the Tuesday , we slept at Macclesfield ; on the Wednesday , at Colne ; on the Thursday , at Appleby ; and on Friday , about four o'clock in the afternoon , we reached home . On the steps , waiting for us , stood Father and Sophy . I had not been many minutes in the house before I felt , in some inward , indescribable way , that things were changed . I wonder what that is by which we feel things that we can not know ?