 | Collected poems |  |
203
IN THE BELFRY
WRITTEN UNDER RETHEL'S “DEATH, THE FRIEND”
Toll! Is it night, or daylight yet?
Somewhere the birds seem singing still,
Though surely now the sun has set.
Somewhere the birds seem singing still,
Though surely now the sun has set.
Toll! But who tolls the Bell once more?
He must have climbed the parapet.
Did I not bar the belfry door?
He must have climbed the parapet.
Did I not bar the belfry door?
Who can it be?—the Bernardine,
That wont to pray with me of yore?
No,—for the monk was not so lean.
That wont to pray with me of yore?
No,—for the monk was not so lean.
This must be He who, legend saith,
Comes sometimes with a kindlier mien
And tolls a knell.—This shape is Death!
Comes sometimes with a kindlier mien
And tolls a knell.—This shape is Death!
Good-bye, old Bell! So let it be.
How strangely now I draw my breath!
What is this haze of light I see? . . .
How strangely now I draw my breath!
What is this haze of light I see? . . .
In manus tuas, Domine!
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