Epilogue.
TO
Again 1 stroll
Along the way ;
The churchbells toll
A mournful lay;
Alas ! they say
Thou art away,
Away away
Far , far away !
The werk is done,
And o’er the day;
The glorieus sun
Yen faints away;
The lowing herds
No longer roam ;
The nimhle hirds
Have found their home;
Still I’m alone
And led astray;
The bells still moan
The selfsame lay;
And still they say
Thou art away,
Away away
Far , far away !