CURFEW MUST NOT RING TONIGHT

Slowly England's sun was setting o'er the hilltops far away,

Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day;

 And the last rays kissed the forehead of a man and I maiden fair,

 He with footsteps slow and weary, she with sunny, floating hair;

He with bowed head, sad and thoughtful, she with lips all cold and white,

Struggling to keep back the murmur, "Curfew must not ring tonight!"

"Sexton," Bessie's white lips faltered, pointing to the prison old,

With its turrets tall and gloomy, with its walls dark, damp, and cold­

"I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to die

At the ringing of the curfew, and no earthly help is nigh.

Cromwell will not come till sunset;" and her face grew strangely white

As she breathed the husky whisper, "Curfew must not ring tonight!"

"Bessie," calmly spoke the sexton-and his accents pierced her heart

Like the piercing of an arrow, like a deadly poisoned dart­

"Long, long years I've rung the curfew from that gloomy shadowed tower;

Every evening, just at sunset, it has told the twilight hour;

I have done my duty ever, tried to do it just and right,

 Now I'm old, I still must do it: Curfew, girl, must ring tonight!"

            Wild her eyes and pale her features, stern and white her thoughtful brow,

And within her secret bosom Bessie made a solemn vow.

She had listened while the judges read, without a tear or sigh,

"At the ringing of the curfew, Basil Underwood must die."

And her breath came fast and faster, and her eyes grew large and bright,

As in undertone she murmured, "Curfew must.not ring tonight!"

With quick step she bounded forward, sprang within the old church door,

Left the old man threading slowly paths he'd trod so oft before;

Not one moment paused the maiden, but with eye and cheek aglow

Mounted up the gloomy tower, where the bell swung to and fro:

As she climbed the dusty ladder, on which fell no ray of light,