IN small towns, in the languid morn and frail Chimes the far bell, chimes in the sweetness of Dawn that regards thee with a sister's love, Chimes the far bell -- and then its music pale Falters upon the roofs like flower on flower, And on the stairs of gables, dark and deep -- Moist blossoms gathered by the winds that sweep. The morning music flutters from the tower, From far away in garlands dry and sere, Like unseen lilies from an hour that's gone The petals, cold and pale, drift on and on As from the dead brow of a perished year. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PILGRIM [SONG], FR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS by JOHN BUNYAN IN HOSPITAL: 4. BEFORE by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: BATTERIES OUT OF AMMUNITION by RUDYARD KIPLING PORTRAIT OF A LADY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 19. THE HEART, LOVE'S BUTT by PHILIP AYRES VERSES WRITTEN IN THE LEAVES OF AN IVORY POCKET-BOOK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |