And the vacant arches of the abbey
Framing the ethereal rose of sunset!
Round about me silence and gray shadow
Peopled with the wraiths of time departed,—
Monks with back-thrown cowls who pace the cloisters
Now deep-mounded, crumbled, clad with ivy.
No more from the tower their chimes of silver
Will the bells fling o’er the town and river,
O’er the Garavogue soft-gliding seaward!
Nevermore—save in deep dreams at midnight.