The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
The bleating goats wind slowly o'er the lea
The villagers noisily homeward plod their way
And leave the world to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight
And all the air a solemn stillness holds
Save where a crying child pierces the blackening night
And muffled shouting from the hillside rolls.
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