Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALLAD OF THE BELLS, SELECTION, by PAUL FORT


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD OF THE BELLS, SELECTION, by                    
First Line: Ah! What joy, the bagpipe and the flute touch our hearts
Last Line: Then in quaint pattern guarded them from sight.
Subject(s): Bells; Brides; Churches; Marriage; Music & Musicians; Cathedrals; Weddings; Husbands; Wives


Ah! what joy, the bagpipe and the flute touch our hearts in their accordant
round, here come the lads and all the lasses to't, and all the old folks at the
music's sound.

Gay, gay, let us marry today, trumpets, ribbons of scarlet and blue; gay,
gay, let us marry today, and this jolly young couple too!

What happiness when from the festive church great bell and chimes search folk
from every part; three hundred peals for the eyes of the bride, and one great
clang for the bridegroom's heart.

Gay, gay, let us marry today, trumpets, ribbons of scarlet and blue; gay,
gay, let us marry today, and this jolly young couple too!

At length the ringing quiets us. What pain when our own bells are through!
Old folk, let tears on your prayer books rain, who can tell, soon the ringing
will be for you.

Gay, gay, let us marry today, trumpets, ribbons of scarlet and blue; gay,
gay, let us marry today, and this jolly young couple too!

And then they're done, the bells are still. Come dance that their days be
glorious. Long live the pair of the festival! Oh, what joy when it's not for us!

Gay, gay, let us marry today, trumpets, ribbons of scarlet and blue; gay,
gay, let us marry today, and this jolly young couple too!

What happiness, the bagpipe and the flute rejuvenate the oldsters for the
round; see how the lasses and lads are dancing to't! Ah, what joy at the music's
sound!

Dried apricots were tart in the repose
Of his soft features, wrinkling for a smile,
Life was a garment lifted to disclose
The upstarts that assumed it for a while
In proud parade. He knew the bold aspect
Fear drew upon its quavers, the sly, calm
Reason that clothed rash will, sweet love that decked
Wild lust, intolerance that intoned a psalm.
He saw hands raised to snatch the garment down,
For man will not endure the sight of man,
But grace his imperfections with a crown
And find his beauty where the lie began.
He wove fair strands of truth for his delight,
Then in quaint pattern guarded them from sight.





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