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Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and
Clashing, clanging to the pavement
Hurl them from their windy tower!
Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and
Clashing, clanging to the pavement
Hurl them from their windy tower!
Bells call others, but themselves enter not into the Church.
Bells call others, but themselves enter not into the Church.
And this be the vocation fit,
For which the founder fashioned it;
High, high above earth's life, read more
And this be the vocation fit,
For which the founder fashioned it;
High, high above earth's life, earth's labor
E'en to the heaven's blue vault to soar.
To hover as the thunder's neighbor,
The very firmament explore.
To be a voice as from above
Like yonder stars so bright and clear,
That praise their Maker as they move,
And usher in the circling year.
Tun'd be its metal mouth alone
To things eternal and sublime.
And as the swift wing'd hours speed on
May it record the flight of time!
Hark! the bonny Christ-Church bells,
One, two, three, four, five, six;
They sound so woundy great,
read more
Hark! the bonny Christ-Church bells,
One, two, three, four, five, six;
They sound so woundy great,
So wound'rous sweet,
And they troul so merrily.
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his music vows,
Now read more
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That sucked the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason
Like sweet bells jangled, out of time and harsh,
That unmatched form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy.
How like the leper, with his own sad cry
Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls!
That lonely read more
How like the leper, with his own sad cry
Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls!
That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals,
To warn us from the place of jeopardy!
With deep affection
And recollection
I often think of
Those Shandon bells,
read more
With deep affection
And recollection
I often think of
Those Shandon bells,
Whose sounds so wild would,
In the days of childhood,
Fling round my cradle
Their magic spells.
The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
"Pull, if ye read more
The old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
"Pull, if ye never pulled before;
Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he.
"Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells!
Ply all your changes, all your swells,
Play uppe The Brides of Enderby."
