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The Fancy

A Selection from the Poetical Remains of the late Peter Corcoran, of Gray's Inn, Student at Law. With a brief memoir of his life [by J. H. Reynolds]
 

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SONNET,
 
 
 
 


93

SONNET,

ON HEARING ST. MARTIN'S BELLS IN MY WAY HOME FROM A SPARRING MATCH AT THE FIVES-COURT.

Beautiful bells! that on this airy eve
Swoon with such deep and mellow cadences,—
Filling,—then leaving empty the rapt breeze;—
Pealing full voic'd,—and seeming now to grieve
In distant, dreaming sweetness!—ye bereave
My mind of worldly care by dim degrees;—
Dropping the balm of falling melodies
Over a heart that yearneth to receive.
Oh, doubly soft ye seem!—since even but now
I've left the Fives-Court rush,—the flash,—the rally,—
The noise of “Go it Jack,”—the stop—the blow,—
The shout—the chattering hit—the check—the sally;—
Oh, doubly sweet ye seem to come and go;—
Like peasant's pipes , at peace time, in a valley!
 

I fear Mr. Corcoran meant pipes for smoking here.