Curfew Song

(To an old Burgundian music)

Candle-flame leans toward the chimney
And the hearthfire toward the star —
Every fiery bit of burning
Yearns where greater blazes are.
Yet must every shining ember
Sparkling high or low, remember
All that's tinder comes to cinder,
Yellow suns burn through and char —
Lights of earth, Oh be not fretful:
Only ask that sweet forgetful
Darkness fold us, near and far.

Dowse the taper softly, softly
Lest the little flame take fright —
Crown him with this cap of folly,
Dancing clown of candle-light.
Now let every weary spirit
Warmth of bed and sleep inherit
And in drowsing think of rousing
To a morning calm and bright —
Thankful for the perfect blessing
Of a future there's no guessing:
So, Messieurs, Mesdames — Good-Night!
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