The Broken Wing/Bells

​Bells

Anklet-bells Anklet-bells! frail anklet-bells!That hold Love's ancient mysteryAs hide the lips of limpid shellsFaint tones of the remembered sea,You murmur of enchanted rites,Of sobbing breath and broken speech,Sweet anguish of rose-scented nightsAnd wild mouths calling each to eachOr mute with yearning ecstasy.
Cattle-bellsCattle-bells! soft cattle-bells!What gracious memories you bringOf drowsy fields and dreaming wells, ​And weary labour's folded wing,Of frugal mirth round festal fires,Brief trysts that youth and beauty keep.Of flowering roofs and fragrant byresWhite heifers gathered in for sleep,Old songs the wandering women sing.
Temple-bells Temple-bells! deep temple-bells!Whose urgent voices wreck the sky!In your importunate music dwellsMan's sad and immemorial cryThat cleaves the dawn with wings of praise,That cleaves the dark with wings of prayer, Craves pity for our mortal ways,Seeks solace for our life's despair,And peace for suffering hearts that die!
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