WHAT master singer, with what glory amazed, Heard one day listening on the lonely air The tune of bells ere yet a bell was raised To throne it over field and flood? Who dare Deny him demi-god, that so could win The music uncreate, that so could wed Music and hue -- till, when the bells begin, Song colours, colour sings? Beauty so bred Enspheres each hamlet through the English shires, And utters from ten thousand peeping spires (Or huge in starlight) to the outmost farms Sweet, young, grand, old. The country's lustiest arms Leap to the time till the whole sky retells That unknown poet's masterpiece of bells. |