Leaping forth from their steep battlemented nest on the hillside, Seaward the bells float, on strong reverberant pinions: Lingering enmingled in silvery dreams of the olives; Rustling the yellow stalks of the grain, fluttering lightly the vine-leaves; Low-rolling over the hoarse uproar of the surf; Soaring over sails and cordage in great ships becalmed off shore; Groaning in deep narrow crannies of island crags; They pass, in long, low quivers of melodious laughter: Till far on a sailless sea drifting and fading, Or by swift eddies of warm breeze caught, jangled and broken, Their sonorous tympani vanish beneath the wind's shrill violins. |