The Evening Bell Poem by Timothy Spicer

The boat fled on the wave fugitive;
The night extends like a calm evening
At the moon of the pale sky, meditative,
Lent a gentle refuge in his black covering;

In the misty distance a bell plaintive
Sighs piously at the steeple of the dwelling;
The saintly sound comes to the ear attentive,
Like a shadow that the eye is sometimes believing;

At the devout voice the carrier breakable
On the trembling wave stops, then trembles,
And the dormant swell, without arousal, falls slumber;

The impassioned mariner with a hand hard and stately
Bends his wrinkled brow, crosses himself devoutly…
And the boat again begins its march towards the harbor.