Tis yet this night bequeathed my rest? Not to be so, such slumbers fall! When death of day has come this way, tis right to bid farewell my time, no less: If it be such slumbers fall. But lingering shadows of the night, are grasping to what’s left to part. So lie awake here I to be. Wandering soul: now time to free. Frantically must beg I please, death by darkness take I to thee.