Since the waves rolled over the old gray town,
Bold men of the sea, in the grip of the flow,
Still hear the Bells, as they pass and go,
Or win to life with their hearts aglow,
_When the Bells below sing softly--softly,
Soft--and sweet--and low,--
The Silver Bells and the Golden Bells,--
Alow, and alow, and alow_.

O the Mystical Bells, they still ring softly,
_Soft--and sweet--and low_,--
For the sound of their singing shall never die
In the hearts that are tuned to their melody;
And down in the world's wild rush and roar,
That sweeps us along to the Opening Door.

Hearts still beat high as they beat of yore,
_When the Bells sing softly--softly--softly,
Soft--and sweet--and low,
The Silver Bells and the Golden Bells,--
Alow, and aloft, and alow_.




THE LITTLE POEM OF LIFE


I;--
Thou;--