Yes, I know November
The tolling of the bell,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
From mountain top to dell.

The chilly, gray, damp mornings
The rusting of the leaves,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Like moans from one who grieves.

And in the windy noon-time
When clouds fight ‘gainst sun’s might,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Cry, “Sanctuary light!”

So ‘fore the red-glassed candle,
Compelled, I go to pray,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Plead, “Sacrifice today!”

Now, deep, dark sanctuary
Is lit by candle, bold,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls…
“Your prayers are autumn gold!”

So like the leaves of autumn
I fall to kneeling posture,
The whispers of the suf’ring souls
Beg, “Say a Pater Noster!”

The flicker in the red glass
Burns hotter, now, with Creed.
Oh, yes, I know November!
The month of Hope…souls freed!