The Watchman.

A poem by Thomas Moore

A TRIO.


WATCHMAN.

Past twelve o'clock--past twelve.

Good night, good night, my dearest--
How fast the moments fly!
'Tis time to part, thou hearest
That hateful watchman's cry.

WATCHMAN.

Past one o'clock--past one.

Yet stay a moment longer--
Alas! why is it so,
The wish to stay grows stronger,
The more 'tis time to go?

WATCHMAN.

Past two o'clock--past two.

Now wrap thy cloak about thee--
The hours must sure go wrong,
For when they're past without thee,
They're, oh, ten times as long.

WATCHMAN.

Past three o'clock--past three.

Again that dreadful warning!
Had ever time such flight?
And see the sky, 'tis morning--
So now, indeed, good night.

WATCHMAN.

Past three o'clock--past three.

Goodnight, good night.

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