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 !