WHENEVER the Presbyterian bell Was rung by itself, I knew it as the Presbyterian bell. But when its sound was mingled With the sound of the Methodist, the Christian, The Baptist and the Congregational, I could no longer distinguish it, Nor any one from the others, or either of them. And as many voices called to me in life Marvel not that I could not tell The true from the false, Nor even, at last, the voice that I should have known. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JEW TO JESUS by FLORENCE KIPER FRANK EPIGRAM: 45. ON MY FIRST SON by BEN JONSON A TEMPLE TO FRIENDSHIP by THOMAS MOORE TAPESTRY TREES by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) SONNET: 87 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AN OLD WOMAN: 1 by EDITH SITWELL THE THREE TROOPERS DURING THE PROTECTORATE by GEORGE WALTER THORNBURY |