Cicely Fox Smith
The Old Bellringer
'Don't sound,' old Job, the ringer, said,
'No muffled peal for I,
But pull your lustiest, lads, instead,
When I do come to die,'
'Till chaps at plough ten mile away,
So loud the music swells,
Do hear and stop their teams and say,
'There goes Long Barton bells.'
For look, when they do show their powers
And swing and shake the spire,
There hain't a peal can match wi' ours,
'No, not in all the shire.'
'I've rung they bells year in, year out,
Since I was but a boy,
And loved 'em best when they did shout
Like marning stars for joy.'
'So toll, when I to churchyard go,
No knell wi' mournful sound,
But ring 'em high an' ring 'em low
An' ring 'em round an' round.'
'An' send out all your j'yfullest notes
When I do come to die;
But never let they tuneful throats
Be sad along of I!'
Cicely Fox Smith's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Old Bellringer by Cicely Fox Smith )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Lights, Camera, Action, Sandra Feldman
- Turned Onto Suicidal Paths, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- The Last Page, Bhaskar Rabha
- Peace, SALINI NAIR
- With a glance on Cuito Cuanavale, Gert Strydom
- Inferno, Gert Strydom
- Exactly in this time(ঠিক এইখিনি সময়তে), Bhaskar Rabha
- Evening conversation, Gert Strydom
- Place, laxami Cards
- teaching my baby girls, Jason Callender