Hark, how chimes the passing bell!
There's no music to a knell;
All the other sounds we hear,
Flatter, and but cheat our ear.
This doth put us still in mind
That our flesh must be resigned,
And, a general silence made,
The world be muffled in a shade.
[Orpheus' lute, as poets tell,
Was but moral of this bell,
And the captive soul was she,
Which they called Eurydice,
Rescued by our holy groan,
A loud echo to this tone.]
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Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the read more
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
The bells themselves are the best of preachers,
Their brazen lips are learned teachers,
From their pulpits read more
The bells themselves are the best of preachers,
Their brazen lips are learned teachers,
From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air,
Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw,
Shriller than trumpets under the Law,
Now a sermon and now a prayer.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness read more
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land;
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
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.
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.
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, read more
Bell, thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party
To the church doth hie!
Bell, thou soundest solemnly,
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!
The vesper bell from far
That seems to mourn for the expiring day.
The vesper bell from far
That seems to mourn for the expiring day.
I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--
I break the Lightning.
I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--
I break the Lightning.
For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts read more
For bells are the voice of the church;
They have tones that touch and search
The hearts of young and old.
