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Around, around,
Companions all, take your ground,
And name the bell with joy profound!
read more
Around, around,
Companions all, take your ground,
And name the bell with joy profound!
Concordia is the world we've found
Most meet to express the harmonious sound,
That calls to those in friendship bound.
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!
And the Sabbath bell,
That over wood and wild and mountain dell
Wanders so far, chasing all read more
And the Sabbath bell,
That over wood and wild and mountain dell
Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy
With sounds most musical, most melancholy.
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.
While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us read more
While the steeples are loud in their joy,
To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
Let us chime in a peal, one and all,
For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo.
He heard the convent bell,
Suddenly in the silence ringing
For the service of noonday.
He heard the convent bell,
Suddenly in the silence ringing
For the service of noonday.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow.
Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
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Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at interval upon the ear
In cadence sweet; read more
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at interval upon the ear
In cadence sweet; now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where Memory slept.