He sits alone in the belfry, A feeble man and gray, And tolls the bell when its full notes tell Of the hours that glide away. In the mist of the early morning, In the glare of the garish noon, In the midnight deep when the shadows creep On the track of the waning moon, When the snow in the starlight glistens, When the flowers from their grave arise, When the faint airs swoon in the languid June, When the dirge of autumn sighs. Like Time with the scythe uplifted He measures each silent spell, Sifting the sand with a tremulous hand, As he waits for the brooding knell. Each stroke has a double meaning A welcome and farewell -- In a single breath a birth and death, A past and a future dwell. A groan and a peal of laughter, A tear of joy or of pain, A frown that breaks or a smile that wakes Sunshine in the heart again. Like a vane in the wind of Fortune Has the life of the bellman gone, For its changes have been as the shadow and sheen That stride over the waving corn. But his heart like the bell he tolleth Beats ever the selfsame tone, Saying all I have is the God's who gave; Let Him do as He will with His own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BE LIKED BY YOU WOULD BE A CALAMITY by MARIANNE MOORE THE DIVINE IMAGE, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE THE SECRET OF THE SEA by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PEGGY, FR. THE GENTLE SHEPHERD by ALLAN RAMSAY TO WORDSWORTH by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY A SATIRICAL ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A LATE FAMOUS GENERAL by JONATHAN SWIFT |