noontide

Midday, noon.

[…] I haue bedymn'd / The Noone tide Sun, call'd forth the mutenous windes, / And twixt the greene Sea, and the azur'd vault / Set roaring warre: […]

The favorite noontide mess of the Andalusian peasantry; consisting of cucumbers shred fine, bread-crumbs, oil, vinegar, and water fresh from the spring.

Climax; high point.

Yet there are noble passages in his later poems: and even the latest have their own peculiar charm of serenity and kindliness,—a tranquil sunset, as it were, succeeding not unmeetly to the fiery splendours of his noontide course.