RING the bells, nor ring them slowly; Toll them not, -- the day is holy! Golden-flooded noon is poured In grand libation to the Lord. No mourning mothers come to-day Whose hopeless eyes forget to pray: They each hold high the o'erflowing urn, And bravely to the altar turn. Ye limners of the ancient saint! To-day another virgin paint; Where with the lily once she stood Show now the new beatitude. To-day a mother crowned with pain, Of silver beauty beyond stain, Clasping a flower for our land A-sheathed in her hand. Each pointed leaf with sword-like strength, Guarding the flower throughout its length; Each sword has won a sweet release To the flower of beauty and of peace. Ring the bells, nor ring them slowly, To the Lord the day is holy; To the young dead we consecrate These lives that now we dedicate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONATA IN PATHOS by CONRAD AIKEN IN THE WILDERNESS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE CANDLE INDOORS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS UPON A SPIDER CATCHING A FLY by EDWARD TAYLOR PHANTOM OF LIFE by VIOLET MCKAY BALL DELAY by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES SONNET (4) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY |