Toll, bell, toll. For hope is flying Sighing from the earthbound soul: Life is sighing, life is dying: Toll, bell, toll. Gropes in its own grave the mole Wedding darkness, undescrying, Tending to no different goal. Self-slain soul, in vain thy sighing: Self-slain, who should make thee whole? Vain the clamour of thy crying: Toll, bell, toll. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BERENICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE FOUNTAIN (1) by SARA TEASDALE A SOLDIER LISTENS by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY by ROBERT BROWNING MY NOVEMBER GUEST by ROBERT FROST THE CHURCH FLOORE by GEORGE HERBERT CABOOSE THOUGHTS by CARL SANDBURG |