The Bells of Lynn
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow�(1810�1876) |
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O CURFEW of the setting sun! O Bells of Lynn!
O
requiem of the dying day! O Bells of Lynn!
From the
dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted,
Your sounds
aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn!
Borne on the
evening-wind across the crimson twilight,
O'er land and
sea they rise and fall, O Bells of Lynn!
The
fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland,
Listens, and leisurely rows ashore, O Bells of Lynn!
Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward
Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn!
The
distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal
Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn!
And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges,
And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn!
Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild
incantations,
Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of
Lynn!
And startled at the sight, like the weird woman
of Endor,
Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of
Lynn! |
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow�(1810�1876)
Listed June 16, 2014 |
Poem about ships returning
safely from sea to Lynn, MA. |
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