No star is o’er the lake
Its pale watch keeping
The moon is half awake
Through gray mist creeping
The last red leaves fall round the porch of roses
The clock hath ceased to sound
The long day closes
Sit by the silent hearth
In calm endeavour
To count the sound of mirth
Now dumb for ever
Heed not how hope believes and fate disposes
Shadow is round the eaves
The long day closes
The lighted windows dim
Are fading slowly
The fire that was so trim now quivers lowly, quivers lowly
Go to the dreamless bed
Where grief reposes
Thy book of toil is read
The long day closes
No star is o’er the lake
Its pale watch keeping
The moon is half awake
Through gray mist creeping
The last red leaves fall round the porch of roses
The clock hath ceased to sound
The long day closes
Sit by the silent hearth
In calm endeavour
To count the sound of mirth
Now dumb for ever
Heed not how hope believes and fate disposes
Shadow is round the eaves
The long day closes
The lighted windows dim
Are fading slowly
The fire that was so trim now quivers lowly, quivers lowly
Go to the dreamless bed
Where grief reposes
Thy book of toil is read
The long day closes