Alfred Rethel (1816-1859)
Toll! Is it night, or daylight yet?
Somewhere the birds seem singing still,
Though surely now the sun has set.
Toll! But who tolls the Bell once more?
He must have climbed the parapet.
Did I not bar the belfry door?
Who can it be?—the Bernardine,
That wont to pray with me of yore?
No, - for the monk was not so lean.
This must be He who, legend saith,
Comes sometimes with a kindlier mien
And tolls a knell. - This shape is Death!
Good-bye, old Bell! So let it be.
How strangely now I draw my breath!
What is this haze of light I see? ...
IN MANUS TUAS, DOMINE!