Song in September :: :: University of Virginia Library

TO CANTERBURY BELLS

Many blossoms to my breast
Make a sweet appeal:
Lily with the snowy crest,
Solomon his seal.
Glad am I in spring to learn
All the violet tells;
But of all the coloured host
You, fair friends, I love the most,
Ringing bells, singing bells,
Canterbury Bells!

Through the days of innocence
Marvel was my food;
Then I stormed the angry fence
Scowling round the wood:
Not for daffodils I searched
In the warmer dells,

But I sought the wood-king bold
In his helm of beaten gold,
Gleaming bells, dreaming bells,
Canterbury Bells!

When the forest made my heart
Quiver in despair,
Sad because its leafiest part
Hid no warrior there,
Mother taught me all the hedge,
Took me to the fells,
Filled my hands with deep delights—
Petalled monarchs, flowering knights—
Swaying bells, playing bells,
Canterbury Bells!

In her garden she would stroke
Cage and cup of blue,
While with joyful love she spoke,
Homeland bells, of you.
Even now her voice (it flows
From remembered wells)

Pours within my ears the praise
Poured on you in happier days,
Blowy bells, snowy bells,
Canterbury Bells!

That was long ago. Her end
Like a blossom shows.
Never shall the Gardener tend
Such another rose.
God be thanked, her spotless soul
In a heaven dwells
Where her brow is cooled by trees
And your kindred kiss her knees,
Calling bells, falling bells,
Canterbury Bells!