II. HE book is completed, TH And closed, like the day; And the hand that has written it Lays it away. Dim grow its fancies s; Forgotten they lie, Like coals in the ashes, They darken and die. Song sinks into silence, The windows are darkened, The hearth-stone is cold. Darker and darker The black shadows fall; Sleep and oblivion Reign over all. 1 |