  In an old village, amid older hills, That close around their verdant walls to guard Its tottering age from wintry winds, I dwell Lonely, and still, save when the clamorous rooks Or my own fickle changes wound the ear Of Silence in my tower! For full five hundred years I've swung In my old grey turret high, And many a different theme I've sung As the time went stealing by! I've peal'd the chaunt of a wedding morn; Ere night I have sadly toll'd, To say that the bride was coming, love-lorn, To sleep in the church-yard mould! Ding-dong, My careless song; Merry and sad, But neither long! For full five hundred years I've swung In my ancient turret high, And many a different theme I've sung As the time went stealing by! I've swell'd the joy of a country's pride For a victory far off won, Then changed to grief for the brave that died Ere my mirth had well begun! Ding-dong, My careless song; Merry or sad, But neither long! For full five hundred years I've swung In my breezy turret high, And many a different theme I've sung As the time went stealing by! I have chimed the dirge of a nation's grief On the death of a dear-loved king, Then merrily rung for the next young chief; As told, I can weep or sing! Ding-dong, My careless song; Merry or sad, But neither long! For full five hundred years I've swung In my crumbling turret high; 'Tis time my own death-song were sung, And with truth before I die! I never could love the themes they gave My tyrannized tongue to tell: One moment for cradle, the next for grave— They've worn out the old church bell! Ding-dong, My changeful song; Farewell now, And farewell long! Midnight Mishaps |
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