I.

SOLEMNLY, mournfully,
Dealing its dole,
The Curfew Bell

Is beginning to toll.

Cover the embers,

And put out the light;

Toil comes with the morning,

And rest with the night.

S

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;

Forgotten they lie;

Like coals in the ashes,

They darken and die..

Song sinks into silence,
The story is told,

The windows are darkened,

The hearth-stone is cold.