ANGELUS.
A deep bell that links the downsTo the drowsy air;Every loop of sound that swoons,Finds a circle fair,Whereon it doth rest and fade;Every stroke that dins is laidLike a node,Spinning out the quivering, fine,Vibrant tendrils of a vine:(Bim—bim—bim.)How they wreathe and run,Silvern as a filmy light,Filtered from the sun:The god of sound is out of sight,And the bell is like a cloud,Humming to the outer rim,Low and loud:(Bim—bim—bim.)Throwing down the tempered lull,Fragile, beautiful:Married drones and overtones,How we fancy them to swim,Spreading into shapes that shine,With the aura of the metals,Prisoned in the bell,Fulvous tinted as a shell,Dreamy, dim,Deep in amber hyaline:(Bim—bim—bim.)
A deep bell that links the downsTo the drowsy air;Every loop of sound that swoons,Finds a circle fair,Whereon it doth rest and fade;Every stroke that dins is laidLike a node,Spinning out the quivering, fine,Vibrant tendrils of a vine:(Bim—bim—bim.)How they wreathe and run,Silvern as a filmy light,Filtered from the sun:The god of sound is out of sight,And the bell is like a cloud,Humming to the outer rim,Low and loud:(Bim—bim—bim.)Throwing down the tempered lull,Fragile, beautiful:Married drones and overtones,How we fancy them to swim,Spreading into shapes that shine,With the aura of the metals,Prisoned in the bell,Fulvous tinted as a shell,Dreamy, dim,Deep in amber hyaline:(Bim—bim—bim.)
A deep bell that links the downsTo the drowsy air;Every loop of sound that swoons,Finds a circle fair,Whereon it doth rest and fade;Every stroke that dins is laidLike a node,Spinning out the quivering, fine,Vibrant tendrils of a vine:(Bim—bim—bim.)How they wreathe and run,Silvern as a filmy light,Filtered from the sun:The god of sound is out of sight,And the bell is like a cloud,Humming to the outer rim,Low and loud:(Bim—bim—bim.)Throwing down the tempered lull,Fragile, beautiful:Married drones and overtones,How we fancy them to swim,Spreading into shapes that shine,With the aura of the metals,Prisoned in the bell,Fulvous tinted as a shell,Dreamy, dim,Deep in amber hyaline:(Bim—bim—bim.)
A deep bell that links the downs
To the drowsy air;
Every loop of sound that swoons,
Finds a circle fair,
Whereon it doth rest and fade;
Every stroke that dins is laid
Like a node,
Spinning out the quivering, fine,
Vibrant tendrils of a vine:
(Bim—bim—bim.)
How they wreathe and run,
Silvern as a filmy light,
Filtered from the sun:
The god of sound is out of sight,
And the bell is like a cloud,
Humming to the outer rim,
Low and loud:
(Bim—bim—bim.)
Throwing down the tempered lull,
Fragile, beautiful:
Married drones and overtones,
How we fancy them to swim,
Spreading into shapes that shine,
With the aura of the metals,
Prisoned in the bell,
Fulvous tinted as a shell,
Dreamy, dim,
Deep in amber hyaline:
(Bim—bim—bim.)