O Curfew Of The Setting Sun! O Bells Of Lynn! O Requiem Of The Dying Day! O Bells Of Lynn! From The Dark Belfries Of Yon Cloud-Cathedral Wafted, Your Sounds Aerial Seem To Float, O Bells Of Lynn! Borne On The Evening Wind Across The Crimson Twilight, O'Er Land And Sea They Rise And Fall, O Bells Of Lynn! The Fisherman In His Boat, Far Out Beyond The Headland, Listens, And Leisurely Rows Ashore, O Bells Of Lynn! Over The Shining Sands The Wandering Cattle Homeward Follow Each Other At Your Call, O Bells Of Lynn! The Distant Lighthouse Hears, And With His Flaming Signal Answers You, Passing The Watchword On, O Bells Of Lynn! And Down The Darkening Coast Run The Tumultuous Surges, And Clap Their Hands, And Shout To You, O Bells Of Lynn! Till From The Shuddering Sea, With Your Wild Incantations, Ye Summon Up The Spectral Moon, O Bells Of Lynn! And Startled At The Sight Like The Weird Woman Of Endor, Ye Cry Aloud, And Then Are Still, O Bells Of Lynn!