THE ANGELUS-BELL
My night-dress hangs on fire-guard railAnd my cup of milk on the table stands,The day goes down like a distant sailAnd leaves me undressed in my Mother’s hands.She has washed me clean of the long day’s grimeAnd the pillow is cool for my sleepy head,For the Angelus-bell with its three-fold chimeHas tolled the sun and myself to bed.
My night-dress hangs on fire-guard railAnd my cup of milk on the table stands,The day goes down like a distant sailAnd leaves me undressed in my Mother’s hands.She has washed me clean of the long day’s grimeAnd the pillow is cool for my sleepy head,For the Angelus-bell with its three-fold chimeHas tolled the sun and myself to bed.
My night-dress hangs on fire-guard railAnd my cup of milk on the table stands,The day goes down like a distant sailAnd leaves me undressed in my Mother’s hands.
She has washed me clean of the long day’s grimeAnd the pillow is cool for my sleepy head,For the Angelus-bell with its three-fold chimeHas tolled the sun and myself to bed.