The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound. Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate, and now decrease, Peace and good will, good will and peace, Peace and good will, to all mankind. This year I slept and woke with pain, I almost wished no more to wake, And that my hold on life would break Before I heard those bells again; But they my troubled spirit rule, For they controll'd me when a boy; They bring me sorrow touch'd with joy, The merry, merry bells of Yule. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOHENGRIN; PROEM by EMMA LAZARUS THE NIGHT MOTHS by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON THE DEATH OF RICHARD WEST by THOMAS GRAY CHURCH MONUMENTS by GEORGE HERBERT |