Part First. Finale

THE HOUR was late; the fire burned low,

The Landlord’s eyes were closed in sleep,

And near the story’s end a deep,

Sonorous sound at times was heard,

As when the distant bagpipes blow.

At this all laughed; the Landlord stirred,

As one awaking from a swound,

And, gazing anxiously around,

Protested that he had not slept,

But only shut his eyes, and kept

His ears attentive to each word.

Then all arose, and said “Good Night.”

Alone remained the drowsy Squire

To rake the embers of the fire,

And quench the waning parlor light;

While from the windows, here and there,

The scattered lamps a moment gleamed,

And the illumined hostel seemed

The constellation of the Bear,

Downward, athwart the misty air,

Sinking and setting toward the sun.

Far off the village clock struck one.