My short and happy day is done, The long and dreary night comes on; And at my door the Pale Horse stands, To carry me to unknown lands. His whinny shrill, his pawing hoof, Sound dreadful as a gathering storm; And I must leave this sheltering roof, And joys of life so soft and warm. Tender and warm the joys of life,— Good friends, the faithful and the true; My rosy children and my wife, So sweet to kiss, so fair to view. So sweet to kiss, so fair to view,— The night comes down, the lights burn blue; And at my door the Pale Horse stands, To bear me forth to unknown lands. |