In The Chill Silence Of The Winter Eve, Thro' Lichfield'S Darken'D Streets I Bend My Way By That Sad Mansion, Where Nerina'S Clay Awaits The Morning Knell; - And Awed Perceive, In The Late Bridal Chamber, The Clear Ray Of Numerous Lights; While O'Er The Ceiling Stray Shadows Of Those Who Frequent Pass Beneath Round The Pale Dead. - What Sounds My Senses Grieve! For Now The Busy Hammer'S Stroke Appals, That, "In Dread Note Of Preparation," Falls, Closing The Sable Lid! - With Sighs I Bear These Solemn Warnings From The House Of Woes; Pondering How Late, For Young Nerina, There, Joyous, The Love-Illumin'D Morn Arose. 1: In Lichfield Cathedral The Funeral Rites Are Performed Early In The Morning.