The Long Day Closes


 * No star is o'er the lake,
 * Its pale watch keeping,
 * The moon is half awake,
 * Through gray mists creeping,
 * The last red leaves fall round
 * The porch of roses,
 * The clock hath ceased to sound,
 * The long day closes.


 * Sit by the silent hearth
 * In calm endeavour,
 * To count the sounds of mirth,
 * Now dumb for ever.
 * Heed not how hope believes
 * And fate disposes:
 * Shadow is round the eaves,
 * The long day closes.


 * The lighted windows dim
 * Are fading slowly.
 * The fire that was so trim
 * Now quivers lowly.
 * Go to the dreamless bed
 * Where grief reposes;
 * Thy book of toil is read,
 * The long day closes.