The Monitor

THE BELLS OF THE CITY

The bells of the city sound aloud
Over the heads of the hurrying crowd,
Marking surely the flight of time.
Ringing out a melodious chime,
Calling loudly through the busy hum,
Come! come! come! come!
The minstrel group from Trinity call
To the belfry band in the city hall,
And the echoes fly at a lively pace
To meet with the charming cherubs of Grace,
And all join in the tuneful song,
Ding, dong! ding, dong!
Now a melody-now a prayer-
Woven in through the harps of air,
Finds its way to the prisoner's cell,
To the homes of the rich and poor who dwell
So far it sounds like a drowsy hum.
Come! come! come! come!
I know the bells are endowed with speech,
And have a message they bring to each,
And none can give the signal clear
That is meant for another person's ear.
Or guess what memories throb and throng-
Ding, dong! ding, dong!
But bells of Trinity! bells of Grace!
Ring out like birds from a lofty place
A song of joy, and not of woe,
O'er the pretty scene in the church below,
And call aloud through the buzz and hum,
Come! come! come! come!
They come to the altar, bride and groom.
She with her cheeks like a rose in bloom.
While the organ tells with its tuneful swells
That the beaux of the city ring the bells;
And echoes awaken through Christendom:
Ding, dong! Come! come!
New York Ledger.