It was a chilly winter's night; And frost was glitt'ring on the ground, And evening stars were twinkling bright; And from the gloomy plain around Came no sound, But where, within the wood-girt tow'r, The churchbell slowly struck the hour; As if that all of human birth Had risen to the final day, And soaring from the wornout earth Were called in hurry and dismay, Far away; And I alone of all mankind Were left in loneliness behind. |