Along the dark, and silent night, With my Lantern, and my Light, And the tinkling of my Bell, Thus I walk, and this I tell: Death and dreadfulnesse call on, To the gen'rall Session; To whose dismall Barre, we there All accompts must come to cleere: Scores of sins w'ave made here many, Wip't out few, (God knowes) if any. Rise ye Debters then, and fall To make paiment, while I call. Ponder this, when I am gone; By the clock 'tis almost One. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION TO THE LATER SONNETS TO URANIA by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE SWAN AND THE GOOSE by AESOP THE BLACK RIDERS: 9 by STEPHEN CRANE THE WEARY BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES HERO AND LEANDER by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE INCIDENT AT BRUGES by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |