 | The poetical works of Robert Herrick |  |
The Bell-man.
Along the dark, and silent night,With my Lantern, and my Light,
And the tinkling of my Bell,
Thus I walk, and this I tell:
373
To the gen'rall Session;
To whose dismall Barre, we there
All accompts must come to cleere:
Scores of sins w'ave made here many,
Wip't out few, (God knowes) if any.
Rise ye Debters then, and fall
To make paiment, while I call.
Ponder this, when I am gone;
By the clock 'tis almost One.
| The poetical works of Robert Herrick | |