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THE CURFEW-SONG OF ENGLAND.
Hark! from the dim church-tower,
The deep slow curfew's chime!
—A heavy sound unto hall and bower,
In England's olden time!
Sadly 'twas heard by him who came
From the fields of his toil at night,
And who might not see his own hearth-flame
In his children's eyes make light.
Sternly and sadly heard,
As it quench'd the wood-fire's glow,
Which had cheered the board with the mirthful word,
And the red wine's foaming flow!
