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Bringing back the loft to earth;—
Then descends the soothing chime,
As in that delightful time,

While his heart responfive swells
To the mufic of the bells.

E. Batchelder.


CING out merrily,


Loudly, cheerily,

Blithe old bells from the fteeple tower.

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Hopefully, fearfully,

Joyfully, tearfully,

Moveth the Bride from her maiden bower.
Cloud there is none in the fair summer sky;
Sunshine flings benison down from on high;
Children fing loud, as the train moves along,
"Happy the Bride that the sun fhineth on."

Knell out drearily,
Measured and wearily,

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Sad old bells from the fteeple gray.
Priests chanting lowly;
Solemnly, flowly,

Paffeth the corpse from the portal to-day.
Drops from the laden clouds heavily fall
Drippingly over the plume and the pall;
Murmur old folk, as the train moves along,
Happy the dead that the rain raineth on.”

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Toll at the hour of prime,

Matin, and vesper chime,

Loved old bells from the fteeple high-
Rolling, like holy waves,
Over the lowly graves,

Floating up, prayer fraught, into the sky.
Solemn the leffon your lightest notes teach;
Stern is the preaching your iron tongues preach;
Ringing in life from the bud to the bloom,
Ringing the dead to their reft in the tomb.

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Brave old bells, on each Sabbath day,
In sunshine and gladness,

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Through clouds and through sadness,
Bridal and burial have both paffed away.

'Tell us life's pleasures with death are still rife,
Tell us that death ever leadeth to life;
Life is our labor, and death is our reft,
If happy the living, the dead are the bleft.
Dublin University Magazine.

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EAR the fledges with the bells-
Silver bells-

What a world of merriment their mel

ody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!

While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle

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With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so mufically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

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Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! Through the balmy air of night

How they ring out their delight!

From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,

What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that liftens, while fhe gloats On the moon!

Oh from out the sounding cells,

What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

How it swells!

How it dwells

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On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,

Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells,—

To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the loud alarum bells

Brazen bells !

What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night

How they scream out their affright!

Too much horrified to speak,

They can only fhriek, fhriek,
Out of tune,

In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expoftulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,

With a desperate desire,

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