Composed during the Second World War at the request of the horn player Dennis Brain, it is a setting of a selection of six poems by English poets on the subject of night, including both its calm and its sinister aspects.

In April 1943 he wrote to a friend, "I've practically completed a new work (6 Nocturnes) for Peter and a lovely young horn player Dennis Brain, & Strings ...

The shadows now so long do grow, That brambles like tall cedars show; Molehills seem mountains, and the ant Appears a monstrous elephant.

And now on benches all are sat, In the cool air to sit and chat, Till Phoebus, dipping in the West, Shall lead the world the way to rest.

The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory:

If hos'n and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane Every nighte and alle, The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gav'st meat or drink, Every nighte and alle, The fire sall never make thee shrink; And Christe receive thy saule.

If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane, Every nighte and alle, The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thy saule.

Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia's shining orb was made Heav'n to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright.

O soft embalmer of the still midnight, Shutting with careful fingers and benign Our gloom‑pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:

if so it please thee, close In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes, Or wait the "Amen" ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities.