BELL, my silver tonguéd bell, Oh, thy secret prithee tell: Dwellst where bats and night-owls roam, Lonely in thy moldered home; Tell me, whence thy solemn ring? And who taught thee, pray, to sing? When in gloomy shaft I lay, Night of hell I saw alway. In this tower high and free Through the whirling winds I see Human sorrow graced by soul. And thou wonderst why I toll? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SOPHISTICATION by CONRAD AIKEN AFTER TU FU (THEY SAY YOU'RE STAYING IN A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE) by MARVIN BELL HOW THEY GO ON by JAMES GALVIN VOLUPTAS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM BOYHOOD FRIENDS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO THE PEACOCK OF FRANCE by MARIANNE MOORE |