CARILLON. In the ancient town of Bruges, In the quaint old Flemish city, Then, with deep sonorous cl Calmly answering their sweet When the wrangling bells had Slowly struck the clock eleve And, from out the silent heav Silence on the town descende Silence, silence everywhere, On the earth and in the air, Save that footsteps here and t Of some burgher home returnin By the street lamps faintly bur For a moment woke the echoes Of the ancient town of Bruges. But amid my broken slumbers Still I heard those magic numbe As they loud proclaimed the flig And stolen marches of the night Till their chimes in sweet collisi Mingled with each wandering vis Mingled with the fortune-telling Of the silent land of trances All else seemed asleep in Bruges, And I thought how like these chimes Are the poet's airy rhymes, All his rhymes and roundelays, His conceits, and songs, and ditties, From the belfry of his brain, Scattered downward, though in vain, |