Lower, lower burn thou fire;
Lessen in the dark'ning room;
Sad I watch thy rays expire.
Thou the last I light at home.

O my heart give way, and break;
Wander not an exile forth;
Die, ere thou thy home forsake,
Be as cold as is thy hearth.

The hearth that glow'd for mine, and me,
Never more must I renew;
But a stranger it will be
That must kindle it anew.

Lower, lower, burns the fire;
Pass'd the flame that leap'd and shone;
There, the ruddy gleams expire,
There, the last weak spark is gone.