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...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: MRS. KESSLER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 7 by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE FALL by HAYDEN CARRUTH POETICAL ABSTRACTS: 2. METAPHYSICAL by HAYDEN CARRUTH CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN DOMESDAY BOOK: THE VERDICT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |