The heights by great men reached and kept, Standing on what too long we bore Nor deem the irrevocable Past CURFEW. I. SOLEMNLY, mournfully, Is beginning to toll. Cover the embers, And put out the light; Toil comes with the morning, And rest with the night. Dark grow the windows, And quenched is the fire; Sound fades into silence,All footsteps retire. No voice in the chambers, No sound in the hall; Sleep and oblivion Reign over all! II. The book is completed, And closed, like the day; And the hand that has written it Lays it away. Dim grow its fancies, Like coals in the ashes, Song sinks into silence, The story is told, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall; Sleep and oblivion Reign over all. |