When the hours of Midnight Ring
I silent to my study creep;
There I think, There I write,
All around are fast asleep.
Before me lo! a maid appeared
Oh, a vision bright and clear!
'Twas my Mary loved of old;
Within my breast she still is dear.
My humble verse I wrote it down
From the secret of my mind,
Of the golden parted hours
That now linger far behind.
Lo! the maiden from me vanished,
Grief and torture came instead;
Thoughts were changed to woe and fear
When that happy vision fled.
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