Alice Meynell
One wept whose only child was deadNew-born, ten years ago.“Weep not; he is in bliss,” they said.She answered, “Even so.“Ten years ago was born in painA child not now forlorn.But oh, ten years ago, in vainA mother, a mother was born.”
One wept whose only child was deadNew-born, ten years ago.“Weep not; he is in bliss,” they said.She answered, “Even so.“Ten years ago was born in painA child not now forlorn.But oh, ten years ago, in vainA mother, a mother was born.”
One wept whose only child was deadNew-born, ten years ago.“Weep not; he is in bliss,” they said.She answered, “Even so.
One wept whose only child was dead
New-born, ten years ago.
“Weep not; he is in bliss,” they said.
She answered, “Even so.
“Ten years ago was born in painA child not now forlorn.But oh, ten years ago, in vainA mother, a mother was born.”
“Ten years ago was born in pain
A child not now forlorn.
But oh, ten years ago, in vain
A mother, a mother was born.”
Brief on a flying night,From the shaken tower,A flock of bells take flight,And go with the hour.Like birds from the cote to the gales,Abrupt—oh, hark!—A fleet of bells set sails,And go to the dark.Sudden the cold airs swing:Alone, aloud,A verse of bells takes wingAnd flies with the cloud.
Brief on a flying night,From the shaken tower,A flock of bells take flight,And go with the hour.Like birds from the cote to the gales,Abrupt—oh, hark!—A fleet of bells set sails,And go to the dark.Sudden the cold airs swing:Alone, aloud,A verse of bells takes wingAnd flies with the cloud.
Brief on a flying night,From the shaken tower,A flock of bells take flight,And go with the hour.
Brief on a flying night,
From the shaken tower,
A flock of bells take flight,
And go with the hour.
Like birds from the cote to the gales,Abrupt—oh, hark!—A fleet of bells set sails,And go to the dark.
Like birds from the cote to the gales,
Abrupt—oh, hark!—
A fleet of bells set sails,
And go to the dark.
Sudden the cold airs swing:Alone, aloud,A verse of bells takes wingAnd flies with the cloud.
Sudden the cold airs swing:
Alone, aloud,
A verse of bells takes wing
And flies with the cloud.