Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Curfew

            I

SOLEMNLY, mournfully,
    Dealing its dole, 
The Curfew Bell
    Is beginning to toll.

Cover the embers,
    Aand put out the light; 
Toil comes with 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. 

1. Chaucer
2. Einar Tamberskelver
3. Thora of Rimol
4. Bishop Sigurd at Salten-Fiord
5. The Warden of the Cinque Ports

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