Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALSHAM BELLS, by KENRICK PRESCOT



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALSHAM BELLS, by                    
First Line: Sweet waft their rounds those tuneful brothers five
Last Line: Expiring notes—they and these lines are done.
Subject(s): Feasts; Festivals; Music & Musicians; Mythology - Classical; Orpheus; Sound; Fairs; Pageants


SWEET waft their rounds those tuneful brothers five;
Learn, brothers, hence with harmony to live.
At eve the swains stir up the pleasing sounds,
Themselves repast, with music fill the grounds.
These notes abroad, each other noise is still;
Dusk and clear peals do all the region fill.
The crescent moon just sheds an infant light,
Stars and sweet sounds spread all abroad delight.
The herds in music chew the feasts of day;
Peals strike the ear; the eye, stars bright and gay.
The village-cur intoxicated lies,
He lists to music and his anger dies.
So when the softer tunes began to creep
On Cerberus, he lost his heads in sleep.
The harp of Orpheus could infernals tame,
And music softened those of direst frame.
On such an eve it is a festival,
And only those come forth whom joy can call.
Like umbered shades, pass nymphs and swains in arms,
Seek balks and woods, and watch the bells' alarms.
For sports agreed, they then are diverse seen
From hedge, through gaps, to fleet along the green.
These a spectator, as aloof he stood,
Fables and vows the fairies of the wood.
In rings they meet, there each their haste reveals,
Rebreathe, and laugh, and list to sweet-mouthed peals.
Gallops the princely hare to yonder grove,
Where glimmers light in shade, to meet his love.
His eyes are glow-worms, and a kingly face
Denotes a lineage to the lion race.
Not wholly wild or tame; each sloe-tipped ear
Lifts to a point; his hue a brown in fire.
Not level stretched as in the hunting race,
He curves, and alters, and checks in his pace.
Who on this beauteous peer the scut discerns,
But thinks of passing ships with rich-flagged sterns?
Light move the shoulders, strong the limbs behind,
At will to amble or outstrip the wind.
Screened by the hedge, or cross the open lea,
He and his mate to lesser closes flee,
By instinct brought on those sweet herbs to feed,
Which round the molehill lift their flow'ry head.
There at their meal attention pleased they give,
While echo crowds the changing tuneful five.
The grateful rounds amuse the traveller;
The peals from distance die upon the ear.
Homeward he tends; scarce lodged at ease, he tells
How charmed the ways, with starlight and with bells.
About to cease, the tuneful brothers five
Swift and more loud to send their sounds they strive.
Some slower turns; the breezes of the air
Impress the music sweeter on the ear.
Brisker they break, they clang, recover, fall;
In time the tenor hastes to cover all;
They mingled speak, alive in part, part mute,
Still hear the sonorous tenor in pursuit.
Few rounds distinct at last in order run,
Expiring notes—they and these lines are done.





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