Curfew, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Curfew

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.   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.   Darker and darker
The black shadows fall;
Sleep and oblivion
Reign over all.

poems.one - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow