XC.—THE ANGELUS BELL.

XC.—THE ANGELUS BELL.CAMPION.

CAMPION.

1. The large moon of autumn,The guardian of night,Had closed her pale lampIn the firmaments height;From the Black Abbey’s towersThe wild doves careered,As the bright dawn of mornAwaking appeared;And the old marble city,From campanile gray,Proclaimed to the burghersAll Noreward—“’twas day!”Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus Bell,Seemed psalming and singingO’er blessed crypt and cell,Where the Black Monks were wontIn the old times to dwell.2. ’Twas noon, at the market-cross,In the quaint town,And the burgher so comely,The tall peasant brown,And the gaunt man-at-arms,And mild maiden meek,With the peach-blush of beautyAnd peace on her cheek,Were crowding togetherIn hundreds around,While the tall cross stood stately’Mid tumult and sound.Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus BellUpon the dense crowdIn the market-place fell;And the burgher knelt down,And the peasant as well,And the gaunt soldier rude,At the peal of the bell,While the pure maiden voiceJoined the long, mellow knell.3. ’Twas night o’er the abbey,The moon rose againO’er the grand domes of pleasureAnd poor haunts of pain;And the wild dove was nestledAgain in the cleftOf the old belfry towerThat early he left;And the pale monks were sittingAlone and alone,With lamps still unlighted,And penitent moan;When the Angelus Bell,With its long, mellow knell,Broke up their lone reveriesLike a blest spell;And down on the cold earthThe holy men fell,The grand prayer to chantAnd their long beads to tell;While sang with its psalm-voiceThe Angelus Bell.

1. The large moon of autumn,The guardian of night,Had closed her pale lampIn the firmaments height;From the Black Abbey’s towersThe wild doves careered,As the bright dawn of mornAwaking appeared;And the old marble city,From campanile gray,Proclaimed to the burghersAll Noreward—“’twas day!”Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus Bell,Seemed psalming and singingO’er blessed crypt and cell,Where the Black Monks were wontIn the old times to dwell.2. ’Twas noon, at the market-cross,In the quaint town,And the burgher so comely,The tall peasant brown,And the gaunt man-at-arms,And mild maiden meek,With the peach-blush of beautyAnd peace on her cheek,Were crowding togetherIn hundreds around,While the tall cross stood stately’Mid tumult and sound.Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus BellUpon the dense crowdIn the market-place fell;And the burgher knelt down,And the peasant as well,And the gaunt soldier rude,At the peal of the bell,While the pure maiden voiceJoined the long, mellow knell.3. ’Twas night o’er the abbey,The moon rose againO’er the grand domes of pleasureAnd poor haunts of pain;And the wild dove was nestledAgain in the cleftOf the old belfry towerThat early he left;And the pale monks were sittingAlone and alone,With lamps still unlighted,And penitent moan;When the Angelus Bell,With its long, mellow knell,Broke up their lone reveriesLike a blest spell;And down on the cold earthThe holy men fell,The grand prayer to chantAnd their long beads to tell;While sang with its psalm-voiceThe Angelus Bell.

1. The large moon of autumn,The guardian of night,Had closed her pale lampIn the firmaments height;From the Black Abbey’s towersThe wild doves careered,As the bright dawn of mornAwaking appeared;And the old marble city,From campanile gray,Proclaimed to the burghersAll Noreward—“’twas day!”Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus Bell,Seemed psalming and singingO’er blessed crypt and cell,Where the Black Monks were wontIn the old times to dwell.

1. The large moon of autumn,

The guardian of night,

Had closed her pale lamp

In the firmaments height;

From the Black Abbey’s towers

The wild doves careered,

As the bright dawn of morn

Awaking appeared;

And the old marble city,

From campanile gray,

Proclaimed to the burghers

All Noreward—“’twas day!”

Then the long, mellow knell

Of the Angelus Bell,

Seemed psalming and singing

O’er blessed crypt and cell,

Where the Black Monks were wont

In the old times to dwell.

2. ’Twas noon, at the market-cross,In the quaint town,And the burgher so comely,The tall peasant brown,And the gaunt man-at-arms,And mild maiden meek,With the peach-blush of beautyAnd peace on her cheek,Were crowding togetherIn hundreds around,While the tall cross stood stately’Mid tumult and sound.Then the long, mellow knellOf the Angelus BellUpon the dense crowdIn the market-place fell;And the burgher knelt down,And the peasant as well,And the gaunt soldier rude,At the peal of the bell,While the pure maiden voiceJoined the long, mellow knell.

2. ’Twas noon, at the market-cross,

In the quaint town,

And the burgher so comely,

The tall peasant brown,

And the gaunt man-at-arms,

And mild maiden meek,

With the peach-blush of beauty

And peace on her cheek,

Were crowding together

In hundreds around,

While the tall cross stood stately

’Mid tumult and sound.

Then the long, mellow knell

Of the Angelus Bell

Upon the dense crowd

In the market-place fell;

And the burgher knelt down,

And the peasant as well,

And the gaunt soldier rude,

At the peal of the bell,

While the pure maiden voice

Joined the long, mellow knell.

3. ’Twas night o’er the abbey,The moon rose againO’er the grand domes of pleasureAnd poor haunts of pain;And the wild dove was nestledAgain in the cleftOf the old belfry towerThat early he left;And the pale monks were sittingAlone and alone,With lamps still unlighted,And penitent moan;When the Angelus Bell,With its long, mellow knell,Broke up their lone reveriesLike a blest spell;And down on the cold earthThe holy men fell,The grand prayer to chantAnd their long beads to tell;While sang with its psalm-voiceThe Angelus Bell.

3. ’Twas night o’er the abbey,

The moon rose again

O’er the grand domes of pleasure

And poor haunts of pain;

And the wild dove was nestled

Again in the cleft

Of the old belfry tower

That early he left;

And the pale monks were sitting

Alone and alone,

With lamps still unlighted,

And penitent moan;

When the Angelus Bell,

With its long, mellow knell,

Broke up their lone reveries

Like a blest spell;

And down on the cold earth

The holy men fell,

The grand prayer to chant

And their long beads to tell;

While sang with its psalm-voice

The Angelus Bell.


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