Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
The bony hand still clutched it tight , And . rattled as it fell To the damp ground ; if living now What stories it might teIl / . * ¦ ¦¦ ¦ ' ¦ % ¦ ' * ¦ ' ¦ ' : ¦ ¦ % ¦ ¦ ¦*• ' ¦¦ " ¦ ¦&¦ - ' ' . ¦ *
But dark and darker grew the night Within the gbthic room , And closer yet the students pressed Amid the gathering gloom The speaker's voice rang strangely out Upon the silent air , And the grim shadows rose and fell , And beckoned everywhere .
" My brothers ! thufc t ^ Preserved by Jewish seers : The good St . J Oncemalvwr ^ The burden of a cross he bears ; His hair is very white—Then let lis watch till the high twelve , For lie map come to-night . "
i ~ . v ^ a « i ~ y- -, J-. '" Tis well ! 'tis Weill" thus spoke they all , In voices very low ; And on the air the tide of night So heavily did flow , That phantoms seemed to fill the room / And float within the gathering gloom , And glide there to and fro .
J ! « 3 £ » - "A » *' - , " - - - i' - VS ¦ Jfc > " ' * rt ' * " Past ten o ' clock ! The moon went down In a great flood of light , And drew its silver mantle From the dark-eyed sleeping night . Eleven ! and the iron tongue In the cathedral tower
Was chiming out , with a groan and a shout , The death of the passing hour ; The scud was flitting across the sky , Like the mists that pass o ' er the closing eye Of the strong man laying down to die .
An hour is gone to the mystical bourne " From whence no traveller doth return , " And up in the arch of the evening air The old clock's hands are clasped in prayer , As they slowly rise to the angel skies ,
And twelve of the midnight is everywhere . Hark ! to the rushing of viewless wings , Beating the air in their w anderings ; List to the chime of the convent bells , Catching the story the old clock tells—One in the great cathedral's tower Chanting and tolling the midnight hour—
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
The bony hand still clutched it tight , And . rattled as it fell To the damp ground ; if living now What stories it might teIl / . * ¦ ¦¦ ¦ ' ¦ % ¦ ' * ¦ ' ¦ ' : ¦ ¦ % ¦ ¦ ¦*• ' ¦¦ " ¦ ¦&¦ - ' ' . ¦ *
But dark and darker grew the night Within the gbthic room , And closer yet the students pressed Amid the gathering gloom The speaker's voice rang strangely out Upon the silent air , And the grim shadows rose and fell , And beckoned everywhere .
" My brothers ! thufc t ^ Preserved by Jewish seers : The good St . J Oncemalvwr ^ The burden of a cross he bears ; His hair is very white—Then let lis watch till the high twelve , For lie map come to-night . "
i ~ . v ^ a « i ~ y- -, J-. '" Tis well ! 'tis Weill" thus spoke they all , In voices very low ; And on the air the tide of night So heavily did flow , That phantoms seemed to fill the room / And float within the gathering gloom , And glide there to and fro .
J ! « 3 £ » - "A » *' - , " - - - i' - VS ¦ Jfc > " ' * rt ' * " Past ten o ' clock ! The moon went down In a great flood of light , And drew its silver mantle From the dark-eyed sleeping night . Eleven ! and the iron tongue In the cathedral tower
Was chiming out , with a groan and a shout , The death of the passing hour ; The scud was flitting across the sky , Like the mists that pass o ' er the closing eye Of the strong man laying down to die .
An hour is gone to the mystical bourne " From whence no traveller doth return , " And up in the arch of the evening air The old clock's hands are clasped in prayer , As they slowly rise to the angel skies ,
And twelve of the midnight is everywhere . Hark ! to the rushing of viewless wings , Beating the air in their w anderings ; List to the chime of the convent bells , Catching the story the old clock tells—One in the great cathedral's tower Chanting and tolling the midnight hour—