I am all alone in my chamber now,
And the midnight hour is near;
And the faggot’s crack and the clock’s dull tick
Are the only sounds I hear.
And o’er my soul, in its solitude,
Sweet feelings of sadness glide,
For my heart and my eyes are full when I think
Of the little boy that died.
I went one night to my father’s house—
Went home to the dear ones all—