Duncan Campbell Scott

The End of the Day

    I hear the bells at eventide
      Peal slowly one by one,
    Near and far off they break and glide,
        Across the stream float faintly beautiful
        The antiphonal bells of Hull;
    The day is done, done, done,
        The day is done.

    The dew has gathered in the flowers,
      Lake tears from some unconscious deep:
    The swallows whirl around the towers,
        The light runs out beyond the long cloud bars,
        And leaves the single stars;
    ’Tis time for sleep, sleep, sleep,
        ’Tis time for sleep.

    The hermit thrush begins again,--
      Timorous eremite--
    That song of risen tears and pain,
        As if the one he loved was far away:
        ‘Alas! another day--’
    ‘And now Good Night, Good Night,’
        ‘Good Night.’