Song's End

THE CHIME of a bell of gold

That flutters across the air,

The sound of a singing of old,

The end of a tale that is told,

Of a melody strange and fair,

of a joy that has grown despair:

For the things that have been for me

I shall never have them again;

The skies and the purple sea,

And day like a melody,

And night like a silver rain

Of stars on forest and plain.

They are shut, the gates of the day;

The night has fallen on me:

My life is a lightless way;

I sing yet, while as I may!

Some day I shall cease, maybe:

I shall live on yet, you will see.

timeforINRI