those evening bells, those evening bells,

how many a tale their music tells —

of yorkshire cakes and crumpets prime,

and letters only just in time!

the muffin-boy has passed away,

the postman gone — and i must pay,

for down below deaf mary dwells,

and does not hear those evening bells.?

and so ’twill be when she is gone,

that tuneful peal will still ring on,

and other maids with timely yells

forget to stay those evening bells.