  Shadows, the pale grey wings of night, Sweep over the sky, And low in the west the lingering light Wanes—like a sigh From the fervent heart of the day Passing away: Then afar Shineth a star. Shadows, the pale grey wings of Death, Sweep over my heart; And far in the dark a voice calleth, "Come ye, depart." There lingers no light from the day Passing away, But afar Shineth a Star! |
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